


last comes the heart

by knightspur



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst and Porn, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Getting Together, M/M, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, side SeokSoon, side jeongcheol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-11-15 12:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 74,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11230755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightspur/pseuds/knightspur
Summary: “I don’t wanna date anybody,” he says, sighing as Mingyu drops his hand. He looks down at the floor, rather than meeting Mingyu’s curious gaze, twisting his fingers around the hem of his shirt. “But this was uh, fine. Both times. So if you wanted to just do this…”“Just sex,” Mingyu says, tilting his head to try and catch Jihoon’s gaze. Jihoon hesitates before shrugging.“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” he says, finally looking up. At least he looks like this conversation is as awkward for him as it is for Mingyu. “I’m not saying we can’t befriends, I just don’t have time to date.”“Okay,” Mingyu says, even though he absolutely shouldn’t.--Or: Jihoon and Mingyu are only hooking up for fun-- just to blow off steam-- and neither of them are looking for anything serious.Right? Right.





	1. try my luck

“Have you clocked out yet?”

Jihoon can recognize the sound of Jeonghan talking to him, but his eyes don’t move from the brightly lit screen of his laptop, engrossed in what’s in front of him. The library is quiet, as it should be, though since it’s almost 10 on a Friday, it’s significantly quieter than usual. Jihoon hasn’t seen anyone come in in the last forty-five minutes, and so he pulled out his computer to get some of his own work done instead.

But, getting work done means ignoring Jeonghan, which apparently isn’t going to fly today. His hands slap loudly on the counter on either side of Jihoon’s computer, the sound loud enough to make him jump even with the loud synthetic drumming in his right ear. Jihoon raises one eyebrow, pausing the looping drum sound and pulling his headphone out. “What?”

“I asked if you clocked out yet,” Jeonghan says, rolling his eyes as he repeats himself. Jihoon shakes his head, leaning his elbow on the counter and sinking his chin.

“I’m here until 11,” he sighs, his eyes dropping back to the screen. There’s a long list of half-completed audio files that are demanding his attention, though at this point Jihoon isn’t sure where to even begin with sorting them out and splicing them together to make an actual song. He’s about to put his headphones back in to start again when Jeonghan stops him.

“It’s fifteen minutes after your shift ended, Jihoon-ah,” Jeonghan says, gently closing Jihoon’s laptop with a shake of his head. “You need a break.”

“I need to finish this,” Jihoon responds, though he does unplug his headphones as well. He pulls the cap off his head, shaking his hair out before pushing it back once more and replacing the hat, keeping his overgrown bangs out of his eyes. “I’ll go punch out. Did you lock up?”

It’s not often that he and Jeonghan work the same shift, but Jihoon can’t remember well enough to say if Jeonghan was supposed to be at the reference desk upstairs or if he’s just there solely for the purpose of making sure Jihoon doesn’t stay at work and stare at his laptop until he either finishes or dies.

“I took care of it,” Jeonghan says, waving his hand to get Jihoon moving. “And you’re coming with me.”

“Where?” Jihoon asks, cautious as he slides off the tall stool behind the desk. Jeonghan’s smile is too sweet, and Jihoon narrows his eyes immediately. “No.”

“Yes,” Jeonghan says, nodding his head. “You and I are going to have fun and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“I don’t have time,” Jihoon says, grabbing his bag and tucking his computer carefully into it. Looping the strap over his shoulder, he turns toward the small office behind the desk. “Can’t you drag someone else to whatever you have planned?”

“Absolutely, but I’m picking you.”

Shaking his head, Jihoon clocks himself out of work, hoping that their supervisor doesn’t look at the times too closely. The last thing he needs is to get in trouble for leaving late, even if it really is no one’s fault but his own. When he finishes, Jeonghan has the same too bright smile on his face, though at least now it’s directed at his phone.

For a moment, Jihoon wonders if he could get away with sneaking out while Jeonghan is distracted by his texts, but as soon as the office door closes behind him, Jeonghan looks up, tucking his hair behind his ears. “Ready?”

“No,” Jihoon grumbles, though he doesn’t stop Jeonghan from slinging an arm around his shoulders, tugging him along.

Outside, the night air is colder than Jihoon had predicted, and his hoodie is hardly enough to keep him warm against the sharp wind. He curls slightly closer to Jeonghan, intent on stealing warmth from his heavier jacket, but Jeonghan cooing at him is almost enough to make him pull away entirely.

“Jihoon-ah is cute,” he says, tightening his hold slightly to keep Jihoon from slipping away. “You should’ve worn a coat, though.”

“It was fine earlier,” Jihoon says, shaking his sleeves down so they cover his hands. “Where are we going?”

“My room,” Jeonghan says, nodding at the long row of apartments ahead of them. “I wanna change, and you can keep your bag there.”

“Where are we going?” Jihoon repeats, putting more emphasis on each syllable. It makes Jeonghan laugh, dropping his arm from Jihoon’s shoulders to dig his keys out of his pocket. Jihoon frowns, pressing himself against Jeonghan’s side, reluctant to let go of the shared warmth.

“We’re going over to Soonyoung’s,” Jeonghan answers, pushing the door to his apartment open and rolling his eyes when Jihoon shoves his way inside, still clinging his sleeves over his hands. Jeonghan uses his heel to push the door shut, nodding as he and Jihoon step out of their shoes. The living room is dark, and Jihoon follows after Jeonghan into his own room. It’s hardly large enough for the two of them, but it’s bigger than the shoe box of a single that Jihoon has for himself.

Jihoon climbs his way onto the bed, using the chair of Jeonghan’s desk to push himself onto the lofted bed with a roll of his eyes, sitting down and pulling his computer out once again. Getting dressed is going to take Jeonghan another twenty minutes at the least, which is a little more time that Jihoon can spend working.

“If you don’t put that away I’m gonna hide it,” Jeonghan says, shedding his shirt and looking over at Jihoon with a glare. “You’re taking a break.”

“Don’t need one,” Jihoon says, waving his hand distractedly. He turns the volume up slightly, his focus already returned to getting the sound he’s actually looking for from this song. “I need to finish this.”

Jeonghan sighs, but he doesn’t make good on his threat of taking Jihoon’s computer away either, not that Jihoon really expected him to. Jeonghan’s threats are usually just as empty as Jihoon’s.

“I’ll leave it here for your stupid party,” Jihoon says, not lifting his eyes from the screen. It’s an olive branch, of sorts. He probably _could_ use a break from staring at this file, even if he’s loathe to admit it. His usual idea of a break would be sleeping, or maybe playing games with Seungcheol. But, Jihoon decided he needed to double major in music production and piano, which means that for the most part he simply doesn’t take breaks. Jeonghan seems pleased by that answer because he nods his head before turning back to his closet.

“Have you met Wonwoo’s new housemate?” Jeonghan asks, still pawing through his shirts. Jihoon blinks, lifting his head and trying to clear the afterimage of the screen from his vision.

“Dunno. Who the fuck is it?” He asks, watching Jeonghan’s phone light up with another message.

“Mingyu… He’s one of Seokminnie’s friends,” Jeonghan finally seems to decide on a loose t-shirt, that as far as Jihoon can tell is hardly different than the one he was wearing before. Jihoon shakes his head, slumping down and looking at his screen again. “I was hoping you’d know him, he’s in fine arts.”

“For what?” Jihoon asks, only barely interested. Jeonghan reaches for his phone and Jihoon uses his foot to nudge it just slightly out of reach, masking a grin when Jeonghan glares at him.

“Don’t know,” he says, swiping his phone away. “I was hoping you would.”

“Here I thought you knew everything about everyone,” Jihoon says, his attention finally drawn away from the screen.

“I do,” Jeonghan responds, his answer quick and confident. “I’m just still in the process of finding everything out about him.”

“Do I want to know why?” Jihoon asks, shaking his head slightly. Jeonghan sets his phone down once again, grabbing a thin choker off the dresser and fastening it around his neck, pausing to frown at himself in the full-length mirror attached to the door.

“Well, what if he’s into weird sex stuff? Or he sells drugs or something? I have to know who Wonwoo-ya is living with.”

“I feel like anyone who would agree to live with Wonwoo can’t be that exciting,” Jihoon says, looking at his file once again. Jeonghan takes the choker off once more, tugging at the hem of his shirt slightly.

“You’re probably right,” Jeonghan says, turning away from the mirror and whatever slight flaw with his outfit might incite him to change once more. He steps forward, giving Jihoon’s leg a tug. “No hat.”

“Yes hat,” Jihoon answers, closing his laptop and using both hands to hold it on his head. Unlike Jeonghan, he doesn’t have the goal of impressing anyone else in mind tonight. Jeonghan scowls at him, taking another step forward.

“No hat and I won’t bother you about having fun for the rest of the weekend. You can hole up in your room with all the instant coffee you want and hiss whenever I come near you,” he says, holding his hands out. Jihoon should know better by now than to trust Jeonghan and his promises because there’s almost certainly a catch to this.

But it’s a good offer, and so Jihoon takes the cap off and hands it over, shaking his hair out. Despite the ragged, uncut edges of his bangs, Jeonghan seems happier with them, ruffling his fingers through Jihoon’s hair once on his own in a gesture that’s more affectionate than effective.

“Can I be seen with you now?” Jihoon asks, doing his best to sort his bangs into order and wiggling his way to the edge of the bed. Jeonghan takes a long look at him, in the black hoodie that hangs down to his thighs and jeans with the hems torn to pieces from being caught under his shoes. As far as Jihoon is concerned this is the height of his presentability and Jeonghan should be glad.

After a moment, Jeonghan nods his head, reaching like he plans on helping Jihoon off the bed. Jihoon glares in return, hopping to the floor and shaking his head. “I should’ve landed on your foot.”

“Don’t be mean,” Jeonghan says, though he’s smiling as well. “Do you wanna bring your keys?”

Jihoon takes a long look at his bag then shrugs his shoulders. “Nah. If it gets late I’ll stay here.”

He does slide his laptop back into his bag, setting the whole thing on the floor next to the foot of Jeonghan’s bed. It would hardly be the first time sharing a bed for them, and Jihoon would rather deal with Jeonghan kicking in his sleep than walking all the way back to his own dorm in the cold.

Rooming together in their freshman year, the last thing Jihoon expected was for Jeonghan to become such a presence in his life. Really, he anticipated hating Jeonghan from the start; for being social, or athletic, or refusing to leave Jihoon alone. But it’s these same things that have kept Jeonghan close to him, even in their third year when they aren’t living together anymore. While Jihoon steps into his shoes, Jeonghan shrugs his coat back on, then looks down at Jihoon with a hum.

“Do you need something heavier?”

“Nah,” Jihoon says, standing and adjusting his heel in his shoe. “Soonyoung lives nearby. It’s fine.”

“Leech,” Jeonghan says as if he doesn’t delight in having Jihoon clinging to him.

**{* * *}**

As should be expected of the hour on a Friday night, Soonyoung’s apartment is full of other students on the far side of sober. Jihoon only detaches himself from Jeonghan when the door is shut behind them, freeing his hands from the confines of his sleeves. Jeonghan turns, patting him on the head once with a wide smile. “Alright, be free. Have fun. Don’t do anything I would.”

The advice makes Jihoon smile despite himself, brushing Jeonghan’s hand away but walking off on his own without complaint. He’ll likely find him later anyway after Jeonghan has finished his regular round of helplessly trying to flirt with Seungcheol and being met with a brick wall.

Jihoon fluffs his fingers through his hair once, edging his way around the space in Soonyoung’s living room that’s been transformed into a dance floor by moving anything not nailed down to the edges of the room. Instead, he makes his way to the cramped kitchen and the steady flow of cheap, terrible alcohol that Soonyoung never fails to get his hands on.

He narrowly manages to avoid being decapitated by Seungkwan, standing too close to the open entryway and waving his hands around as he speaks, worked into a frenzy about something. Jihoon ducks his head just in time, and rolls his eyes when Seokmin, seated on the counter with a red cup clutched between his hands and a flush high on his cheeks from whatever is in it, nearly knocks himself to the floor laughing. Seungkwan looks over his shoulder at Jihoon, dropping his arms as if he wasn’t seconds away from launching into the next part of his rant.

“Did someone call him a bad dancer again?” Jihoon asks, grabbing a cup for himself. Seokmin laughs, his heels thudding against the cabinets as he kicks his feet. It makes Jihoon smile, though he does his best to keep it to himself. As rowdy and annoying as these two can be, especially together, they’re both music majors, and Jihoon has grown fond of them despite himself.

“Of course not,” Seungkwan replies, though the tone of his voice says something entirely different. “I’m a fantastic dancer.”

“Chan said he didn’t need Seungkwannie for his showcase project,” Seokmin says, grinning around the rim of his cup as he takes another sip from his drink. “But it’s fine because he doesn’t even want to be a part of it.”

“Exactly,” Seungkwan says, nodding his head in sharp agreement. Either he hasn’t noticed or is choosing to ignore the fact that Seokmin is laughing at him still. “Besides, I have to focus on my Philosophy project.”

“Why the fuck are you taking Philosophy?” Jihoon asks, wrinkling his nose as the first long drink of alcohol burns its way down the back of his throat. This draws another round of giggles out of Seokmin, who sets his drink to the side to clutch at his probably sore stomach. It’s hard to tell sometimes when he’s had too much to drink since Seokmin tends to be this happy about _everything_. Usually, Jihoon would find the relentless positivity tiring, but he doesn’t mind as much when it comes from Seokmin.

“It’s a very interesting subject,” Seungkwan says, narrowing his eyes at Seokmin.

Seokmin beams right back at him. “He’s taking it because Hansol is a Philosophy major.”

Jihoon sighs, shaking his head at both of them. He can’t imagine where the two of them find this much energy. Seungkwan huffs at him, crossing his arms over his chest; a perfect example of Righteous Offense.

“That has nothing to do with it,” he says, though it’s more of a grumble. Jihoon raises an eyebrow, deciding to focus on his drink rather than the two of them debating exactly how obvious Seungkwan’s crush on Hansol is.

He leaves the kitchen as Seungkwan starts on one of his rants, reducing Seokmin into a charmed pile of laughs. It’ll only be a matter of time before their yelling attracts Soonyoung, and dealing with the three of them in a confined space for any amount of time is something Jihoon would rather avoid.

The music thumping through Soonyoung’s living room is loud enough to get all of them in trouble if most of the people who shared an apartment block with him weren’t already there. The couch shoved into the corner of the room, out of the way of the dancing, has enough space for Jihoon to squeeze himself between Wonwoo and Junhui. Neither of them moves to make it any easier, however, so Jihoon finds himself draped half in a smiling Junhui’s lap, one of his legs stretched over Wonwoo’s knee.

He could complain about it, and bark at the both of them to move, but he’s distracted by the third boy on the couch, the one he didn’t notice before sitting down. He leans around Wonwoo to look at Jihoon in surprise, blinking his large eyes. Jihoon is surprised that he doesn’t recognize him; as large as his group of friends has become since meeting Jeonghan, it’s unusual that any of them spend much time with strangers.

The living room isn’t well lit, with the ceiling light off in favor of the mismatched, twinkling Christmas lights Soonyoung has hung all over the room, but it’s enough to make out that Wonwoo’s friend has dark hair and tan skin, and after a moment, a crooked smile. He’s handsome in the kind of way that Jihoon doesn’t usually bother to pay attention to, except he hasn’t had anything to drink in awhile and he definitely made his cup stronger than he meant to.

The boy says something to Wonwoo that Jihoon can’t hear over the music and the distraction of Junhui fiddling with the ends of his hair. He turns his head, nose wrinkling as he tries to bite at Junhui’s fingers. “Quit that.”

“You look like a mushroom,” Junhui answers, which is the most insulting compliment that Jihoon has been paid in a long time. He glares at Junhui for it, doing his best to sit up and present less of a target for his prodding.

Wonwoo stares impassively at the two of them for all of two seconds before he laughs. He tilts his head slightly toward the other boy, the Christmas lights reflecting in strange patterns on his glasses. “That’s Mingyu. He’s a second year with Seungkwan and Seokmin.”

Jihoon pauses in glowering at Junhui, who has gone from his hair to squeezing the lobe of his ear between two fingers to look over at Mingyu once again. He doesn’t look the same age as Seokmin and Seungkwan until a wide smile blooms across his face, reminding Jihoon of a dog meeting someone new for the first time. An unfortunately handsome dog, but a dog none the less.

“Jihoon,” he says, extending the hand he isn't using to bat Junhui off of him. “You're the kid who moved in with Wonwoo-goon?”

“Yeah,” he says, shaking Jihoon’s hand with almost too much energy. Jihoon casts a glance at Wonwoo, a grin climbing on his face.

“Jeonghan is already trying to get information on him,” he says, raising both of his eyebrows. Wonwoo laughs, tilting his head back and letting it slide into a groan.

“Of course he is,” he says, glancing at the curious expression on Mingyu’s face. Jihoon does as well, trying to cover it with another sip of his drink. Mingyu has his lips parted like he's caught around the first syllable of a thought, and Jihoon finds it strangely distracting. “Do you know where he's at?”

“Pulling Seungcheol’s pigtails, probably,” Jihoon says, shoving himself out of Junhui’s lap once Wonwoo stands. “You should go with him before I kill you.”

It's meant to be threatening, but of course, Junhui looks at him with a laugh. Jihoon should have expected as much, of course, because there's never been good evidence that Junhui fears anything. Still, Junhui stands up, giving Jihoon’s hair a ruffle for good measure.

Jihoon is about to lift a hand to fix it himself, but Mingyu is quicker. He leans across space recently vacated by Wonwoo, sorting Jihoon’s hair back into order. Irrationally, Jihoon finds himself flushing at the contact, and reluctant to pull away.

He glances up through his bangs, surprised by the slight furrow of focus in Mingyu’s brow. He drops his hands after a moment, seeming to realize that Jihoon is still a perfect stranger to him.

Jihoon doesn't mind as much as he usually would, though it's hard to ignore the temptation to shake his hair out purely to be contrary.

“Thanks,” he says after a pause. Mingyu grins, nodding his head eagerly. His teeth are caught on the corner of his lower lip, and Jihoon can’t help but notice how sharp his canines look. Mingyu’s eyes dart over toward the dance floor, and even though he has a feeling he knows what the question will be before Mingyu asks, Jihoon finishes his drink and waits it out.

“Um,” Mingyu mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck with a laugh that sounds more than a touch nervous. “Would you wanna dance with me?”

Usually, the answer would be a harsh and resounding ‘no’. Jihoon, unlike most of his friends, _can_ dance just fine, though he almost always decides not to. It’s not the dancing that’s the problem, but the sweaty, drunken strangers touching him. And, light-weight or not, Jihoon has certainly not had enough of anything to make him drunk.

“Sure,” he says, not letting himself dwell too hard on the reason why. He regrets it almost as soon as Mingyu stands, an impressive too-fucking-tall, and nearly trips over his own feet. Jihoon, for a beat, is reluctant to follow him. He looks up at Mingyu with a frown on his face, pushing himself up more carefully, setting his cup on the floor next to the couch. “Is one of your parents a fucking tree?”

Jihoon is adjusted to being short, hell, most of the time he even likes being short, even amongst friends who are typically at least ten centimeters taller than he is. But, Mingyu is much taller than that, and he stands like his whole body is too big for him. He laughs at the question, standing slightly slumped with one hand resting on his thigh, curled into a loose fist. Jihoon wonders if he could stand on his toes without hitting his head on the ceiling.

“I don’t think so,” he answers, his mouth still curled up into a bright smile. He offers one large hand to Jihoon, who takes it as the song playing fades out, giving way to the next one.

Soonyoung’s party playlists are always good, and it’s always been thanks to Jihoon. He made the first one when they were in their freshman year after his endless complaints about Soonyoung’s bad taste in music fell on deaf ears. The original gave way to one that Jihoon sits down once a month and edits, adding new music and taking songs off as they begin to feel stale. So, of course, it isn’t any surprise that he knows the next song before it comes on.

Mingyu doesn’t, and it takes him a frozen moment to register. Jihoon resists the urge to laugh, though just barely, and lets go of Mingyu’s hand. He places both hands on Mingyu’s hips instead, doing his best not to be annoyed that his head barely comes as high as Mingyu’s shoulder. He expects Mingyu to be a gawky, awkward dancer, and it takes a long minute before he seems to know what to do with his hands. One of them comes to rest at the small of Jihoon’s back, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his hoodie, and the other lays warm and heavy on the back of Jihoon’s neck.

But, with the guidance of Jihoon’s hands bracketing his hips, Mingyu figures out what to do with himself fairly quickly. Jihoon, trying to avoid being bumped by the other people dancing in the center of the room, presses himself closer to Mingyu, ducking his head slightly. It feels awkward to tilt upwards to look at Mingyu’s face, even when the pad of his thumb rolls in small circles on the back of Jihoon’s neck. He stops using his hands to force Mingyu’s hips to follow the rhythm once he’s sure Mingyu has it on his own, but leaves them there anyway, fingers spread wide enough that when Mingyu’s shirt hitches upward from his movements, the tips of them rest on bare skin.

Jihoon doesn’t realize how close he has himself pressed until one of Mingyu’s long legs ends up between his, almost tangling them up for a moment. But Mingyu’s knee bends, leaving Jihoon enough room to move. The hand at his back has fallen to his waist, but Jihoon chooses to ignore it for the moment. He is, for whatever reason, enjoying himself. It’s probably because he’s barely allowed himself out of his room for anything other than shifts at the library or food for the last dozen weekends. Jihoon lifts his head to look up at Mingyu, resting his chin against the center of Mingyu’s chest to ease some of the strain on his neck.

It’s annoying, but somehow still worth it when Mingyu looks down at him with a smile that makes his eyes wrinkle at the corners. Jihoon wonders exactly how weird, quiet Wonwoo managed to find someone so handsome to live with him. He opens his mouth to ask, then thinks better of it, sure the loud music will force him to shout awkwardly. He pushes his tongue over his lower lip instead, wetting it and twitching his nose at the lingering taste of alcohol there. Mingyu’s smile shrinks just slightly, his gaze dropping down to Jihoon’s lips as well, a hesitating flush creeping into his cheeks. 

When Mingyu dips his head to press a tentative kiss to Jihoon’s mouth, Jihoon is expecting it. Mingyu’s lips are surprisingly soft, and he probably tastes far less like rum than Jihoon does himself. His nails scrape slightly at the back of Jihoon’s neck, curling into the short hairs there. Mingyu’s lips part around Jihoon’s, sighing out softly.

Jihoon leans forward on his toes to make the contact slightly easier, though doing so nearly upsets their balance. Mingyu stumbles, his hand at Jihoon’s back tightening and threatening to send them both tumbling to the ground before he catches himself on his heels. Lifting his head quickly, Mingyu makes at least an effort to hide how the back of his neck goes red, though the lights aren’t quite dim enough to cover it, at least not entirely.

As brief as it was, Jihoon wants to kiss Mingyu again. It comes as half a surprise to him, being that the first effort nearly ended with the both of them on the ground. The song winds to an end anyway, and Jihoon grabs hold of Mingyu’s wrist, pulling him away from the dance floor. Mingyu follows after him, nearly stumbling on his own feet once again, and Jihoon wonders if he’s had more to drink than he first suspected.

Mingyu looks at him, for a second, like he’s not sure what’s happening when Jihoon pulls him away from the rest of the party. Making out with Wonwoo’s new roommate in Soonyoung’s bathroom is absolutely tacky, and the kind of thing that Jihoon would never be caught dead doing. But, his next best option is Soonyoung’s room, which is also the only thing worse. He and Soonyoung are close friends, but he's sure that wouldn't go over well regardless.

Jihoon kicks the door to the bathroom shut behind him, turning the lock while Mingyu looks around the cramped room, tilting his head down slightly like he’s scared of hitting it on the ceiling. Jihoon isn’t sure how real a concern that is or not, though in the bright, harsh light it feels like he towers over Jihoon. 

Turning his back on the counter, Jihoon uses his palms to shove himself up, kicking his heels as he adjusts himself. Mingyu grins, taking a step forward so his hips are between Jihoon’s knees, resting his hands on the counter as well. Jihoon licks his lips, leaning back slightly, feeling shyer under the bright lights. This is entirely different from how Jihoon usually spends his weekends, and he opens his mouth to say as much.

Mingyu, at the same time, rests one hand on Jihoon’s shoulder and leans in, catching Jihoon’s parted lips in another kiss. Jihoon reaches, his fingers catching in the loops of Mingyu’s jeans. He drags his tongue over Mingyu’s lower lip, humming slightly when Mingyu’s mouth opens in return.

One of Mingyu’s hands finds it’s way up the back of Jihoon’s hoodie, thumb sliding in circles at the base of his spine. Jihoon’s ankle curls around the back of Mingyu’s leg, teeth digging into his lower lip. He can feel the way Mingyu’s breath catches in the back of his throat, and feeling encouraged by it, Jihoon bites down again. Mingyu’s fingers tighten against his back, short nails digging into Jihoon’s skin slightly.

Jihoon leans his head back, nearly hitting it against the mirror. Mingyu blinks his eyes open before leaning forward, mouth following the line of Jihoon’s neck. Tilting his head back more carefully, Jihoon lets it rest against the mirror without slamming his head. Mingyu doesn’t quite bite down, but his teeth do drag against the skin of Jihoon’s collarbone, pulling down the loose neck of his hoodie. Jihoon’s hand slides up, gripping the back of Mingyu’s head. The other lingers at the top of Mingyu’s hip, sliding along the sharp angle of it. 

Someone knocks too loudly on the door and Jihoon lifts his head, frowning.

“Fuck off,” he says, loudly enough to be heard through the door. There’s a surprised, embarrassed expression on Mingyu’s face, but it gives way to a smile at the glare Jihoon shoots at the door. His head drops to Jihoon’s shoulder, muffling his laughter against Jihoon’s hoodie.

“Man, c’mon,” complains the voice on the other side of the door, and Jihoon just rolls his eyes. He would hop down and simply yell at whoever is there, but doing so with a boner and a massive second year will probably kill any effectiveness that his words might have.

Mingyu continues giggling against his shoulder until the footsteps recede. Jihoon shakes his head, tapping on the back of Mingyu’s neck.

“Move now,” he says, wiggling himself forward on the counter. Doing so presses the two of them closer together for a second, and Mingyu looks reluctant to pull away. And Jihoon knows what he should do— climb down off the counter and go take up as much of Jeonghan’s bed as possible before he has to share. But, for once, he wants to do something other than sleep or work.

It’s a strange feeling, and Jihoon isn’t exactly sure what he’s supposed to do with it. But Mingyu bites down on his lower lip, hiding a shy smile, his hand lingering on Jihoon’s back. “Do you want to…”

He doesn’t finish, but Jihoon nods his head anyway. The answer seems to make Mingyu more nervous, but he steps back and holds a hand out to help Jihoon off the counter. Jihoon ignores it because he certainly doesn’t need help and hops down himself.

Luckily, when Jihoon opens the door there’s no one waiting immediately outside to judge him for walking out with Mingyu looming behind him, his shoulders shrugged tight to his body. It makes Jihoon laugh, watching Mingyu try to make himself look small despite being a full head taller than anyone else Jihoon can see.

Mingyu doesn’t stop to grab a jacket, so Jihoon assumes that the loose shirt he’s wearing is what he came in, though he does stop to glance over the crowd, and after a moment Jihoon realizes it’s to make sure Wonwoo hasn’t left before him. Part of him wants to laugh, but in honesty he’s glad. If the two of them had to walk all the way back to his dorm, Jihoon isn’t sure that he would still have the nerve to go through with things.

It’s a surprise when Mingyu reaches behind him, his fingers catching Jihoon’s hand and squeezing it. Mingyu’s hands are warmer than Jihoon expects, and greedy for as much heat as he can get with the cold wind once again cutting through his sweater, Jihoon walks as close to Mingyu as he can without tripping them both.

From experience, Jihoon knows that Soonyoung lives close to Wonwoo. But, before they even make it that short distance Mingyu uses his grip on Jihoon’s hand to pull him into another kiss, bent over in a way that can’t be comfortable. Jihoon can’t complain, though, because Mingyu’s lips are warm against his. Mingyu gathers both of his hands together, warming Jihoon’s already cold fingers.

“You have warm hands,” Jihoon says, glancing down at them when Mingyu stands upright again. Mingyu nods, a grin spreading over his face.

“Because I have a warm heart,” Mingyu responds, looking far too proud of himself. Jihoon wrinkles his nose, wondering if he should smack Mingyu for the cheesy comment or not. It's tempting, but he takes a step away instead, giving Mingyu a shove in the right direction.

It would be stupid to say that Jihoon doesn't notice the cold because of the hot burn of anticipation under his skin. He notices, of course, but it's certainly lessened. Mingyu fumbles his key into the lock, still clinging Jihoon’s hand in one of his own, their fingers tangled together. Jihoon rolls his eyes at Mingyu’s back, though he's reluctant to show exactly how impatient he's feeling.

Inside, Wonwoo’s apartment is the cleanest that Jihoon has ever seen it. Judging by the way Mingyu steps carefully out of his shoes and aligns them neatly to the side of the doorway, Jihoon can guess why. As Jihoon steps out of his own, Mingyu finally drops his hand. Rather than stepping away, however, he leans in and brushes Jihoon’s hair back from his face, letting the ragged edges slip through his fingers.

Jihoon leans away from the touch, feeling oddly exposed by it, nudging his shoes to the side with the heel of his foot. He doesn’t bother to make sure they’re aligned or neat, shoving Mingyu ahead of him. “Hurry up.”

He’s doing the best to ignore the burning on the back of his neck, and Mingyu laughs. He pushes the door to his room open, and before he flips the light on he pulls Jihoon over the doorway as well. His fingers catch around the bottom of Jihoon’s hoodie, hesitating for a moment until Jihoon nods his head sharply. Mingyu pulls the sweater over his head carefully, setting it on the desk rather than just dropping it to the floor like a normal person.

Mingyu reaches a hand forward like he might be thinking about fixing Jihoon’s mussed hair again, and with a roll of his eyes, Jihoon shoves him forward once more. Mingyu stumbles, sitting down when the backs of his knees hit the bed. It brings Jihoon’s face even with Mingyu’s, and even in the dark of the room, Jihoon can see his face go from surprised to amused. Jihoon slides his fingers through Mingyu’s hair, his nose wrinkling slightly at the gel that sticks to his fingers, pushing his head back and kissing him again.

This time there’s no peaceful meeting of their mouths. Jihoon tightens his fingers in Mingyu’s hair, and when Mingyu’s lips part, Jihoon pushes his tongue past them. Mingyu’s hands drift from his back down to his thighs, pulling Jihoon forward into his lap, with Jihoon’s knees denting into the mattress.

Jihoon catches himself with one hand on Mingyu’s shoulder, settling himself in Mingyu’s lap. The wiggling makes Mingyu tense, his shoulders going stiff as Jihoon rubs against the obvious bulge in his jeans. It makes Jihoon smirk to himself, leaning back and reaching to pull Mingyu’s shirt over his head and discarding it off the foot of the bed. Mingyu, for a moment, looks like he wants to complain about the mess, but he’s quickly distracted by Jihoon rolling his hips forward.

His head falls against Jihoon’s shoulder, groaning into the space between his neck and his shoulder. His hips push upward in return, trying to chase after the fleeting contact. His hands tighten around Jihoon’s thighs, holding him in place with a surprising amount of strength. His hips roll forward again, grinding himself against Jihoon with another small, muffled groan. Jihoon Sighs out sharply in return, holding onto Mingyu’s shoulder still to try and brace himself better. Mingyu lifts his head, leaning up to kiss Jihoon again, sighing into the open space of Jihoon’s mouth. His hands slide up, over Jihoon’s ass, to catch the bottom of his shirt. Jihoon ducks his head, making it easier for Mingyu to pull It over his head and drop it by the end of the bed. He wraps one arm around Jihoon’s back, supporting his weight as he flips the both of them over. Jihoon blinks his eyes, surprised to find himself suddenly laying back on the bed with Mingyu on top of him.

He feels smaller than usual, with Mingyu’s hands on either side of his head, balanced with his knees on the bed now, but Jihoon is surprised that he doesn’t hate the feeling. He reaches upward, pulling Mingyu down by his neck and pressing kisses along the line of his jaw. He lets his teeth scrape against Mingyu’s skin, distracting him from the apparently difficult task of getting Jihoon out of his jeans.

When Mingyu finally manages to wrestle Jihoon’s jeans open, he uses one hand to push Jihoon’s hips down against the bed, holding them there while he pushes his hand between Jihoon’s pants and his underwear. His warm palm cups around Jihoon’s cock, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his underwear and making Jihoon tilt his head back. He manages to strangle most of the noise that wants to slip out of his mouth, ending up with a whine trapped in the back of his throat. It’s been a long time since Jihoon has done anything other than spend a few half-assed minutes taking care of himself. It’s not a fact that bothers him, usually, but he doesn’t enjoy the embarrassing sounds that he can feel sticking in his throat like he’s a teenager getting a handjob for the first time all over again.

Of course, it hardly seems like Mingyu minds, with the smile he keeps ducking his head to try and hide. With a huff, Jihoon kicks weakly at his thigh, doing his best to look annoyed while also grinding his hips upward into Mingyu’s palm. “You’re so slow.”

Mingyu laughs, removing his hand from Jihoon’s pants, which only serves to make him more frustrated with the whole situation. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t sound sorry, but Jihoon decides not to complain about that too, in the hope that Mingyu will at least take the hint. He tugs Jihoon’s pants down, sliding his legs out of the way so Jihoon can kick them off himself without also kicking Mingyu again. It feels awkward, vulnerable, for Jihoon to be laying on the bed flushed and wearing next to nothing while Mingyu is still clothed and at least mostly composed. Jihoon leans up on one of his elbows, reaching down and hooking two of his fingers in the loops of Mingyu’s pants and giving them a sharp tug. Mingyu chuckles at the demand, sitting up further to give Jihoon the space to pull open the button of his jeans.

Impatient already, Jihoon shoves Mingyu’s jeans off his hips quickly, biting down on his lip to resist the urge to laugh as Mingyu struggles to slide the rest of the way out of them without knocking himself over entirely onto Jihoon. He leans forward, but rather than kissing Jihoon again, reaches one of his long arms over to the small nightstand next to the bed, digging in the top drawer of it blindly.

Jihoon isn’t surprised that Mingyu already has both condoms and lube next to his bed. He’s pretty sure that there’s some in his room as well if he could be bothered to look. Mingyu deposits both on the bed next to Jihoon’s head, his thumb resting on the arch of Jihoon’s hip and lingering there for a moment. His hand slides inside of Jihoon’s boxers, fingers wrapping around his cock, thumb sliding over the slick head. This time Jihoon does whine, unable to stop the sound before it leaves his mouth. Mingyu glances up, watching Jihoon press the heel of his hand against his mouth to stop anything else mortifying from coming out. Stroking Jihoon slowly, Mingyu reaches his other arm up, grabbing the lube from next to Jihoon. He releases Jihoon’s cock, pulling his underwear down around his thighs. Jihoon wiggles one of his legs free, letting it fall to the side when Mingyu pushes his thighs apart.

The first press of his fingers against Jihoon’s hole is cold enough that his leg flinches. Mingyu mumbles something that’s probably an apology, his fingers curling and stroking slowly around the tight ring of muscle. Jihoon lets out a slow breath, lifting his hand slightly away from his mouth. Jihoon quickly claps his hand over his mouth again when one of Mingyu’s fingers sinks in slowly. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, concentrating on breathing in and out of his nose slowly. Mingyu’s other hand is on his thigh, thumb massaging the muscle slowly, helping Jihoon ignore the slight burn in his muscles. Jihoon appreciates it, opening his eyes slowly and giving Mingyu a slight nod of his head.

It would be easier to communicate, probably, if he took his hand off of his mouth, but he's not sure he wants to know what kind of sounds he's likely to make if he does. Still, Mingyu seems to get the message just fine, twisting his wrist and thrusting his finger carefully in and out. Jihoon's leg curls, bending at the knee, his heel pressing into Mingyu's hip. His motions stay controlled and careful, and as much as Jihoon appreciates it, the frustration building under his skin is becoming harder and harder for him to ignore. He's half tempted to bat Mingyu's hand away and prep himself, and Mingyu seems to realize it. His fingers wrapping loosely around Jihoon's cock, pumping slowly before adding a second finger. This time, the stretch is something Jihoon expects, and he sucks in a quick breath to help his muscles relax more quickly.

Mingyu seems more confident now as well, his thumb pressing the slit of Jihoon's dick, spreading the slippery pre-come that leaks out over the head. Jihoon bites down on the flesh of his palm, doing his best to quiet another whine, staring up at Mingyu's face for a moment. His expression is surprisingly intense, with his eyebrows close together and his lips slightly parted, the lower one puffy already from kissing. His fingers curl upward, pressing just shy of Jihoon's prostate, making Jihoon's hips jerk upward in sharp surprise. A grin catches on Mingyu's face and Jihoon tilts his head back, embarrassed, looking at the distant white ceiling. Mingyu tries again, sliding his fingers deeper and pressing his fingers upward, spread slightly further apart. He hits his mark this time, and Jihoon whines high and sharp into his hand.

Looking like he's just won something, Mingyu backs his fingers away, returning his focus to the task of stretching Jihoon. As the third of his fingers presses in, Jihoon's other hand curls to grip the sheets, tilting his head back further like that might make it easier to breathe. Mingyu's patience continues to far outweigh Jihoon's, and as soon as it feels comfortable to have Mingyu's fingers stretching him, Jihoon arches his hips downward, doing his best to push them in further. Mingyu makes a sound like he isn't sure if he wants to groan or laugh.

His fingers spread further apart and Jihoon groans again, releasing the sheet clutched in his hand and floundering to the side for a moment until he finds the condoms lying forgotten next to his head. With the best glare he can muster, Jihoon tosses them at Mingyu, managing to hit him in the shoulder. Mingyu blinks, looking down at them with a grin. "You're not very patient, are you?"

Jihoon finally drops his hand from his mouth to scowl. "If you don't hurry up I'll fucking do it myself."

Mingyu laughs, which makes Jihoon's stomach bubble in a strange way, but at least he finally seems to have gotten the message. He tears the condom open with his teeth, and Jihoon flops his head back to the bed, doing his best to breathe evenly until he feels the blunt head of Mingyu's cock dragging against his thigh, leaving a slick trail of lube behind it. He pushes it in slowly, and Jihoon can hear the way his breath shudders. Mingyu has his eyes squeezed shut, apparently only now realizing he's forgotten about taking care of himself.

It's apparent immediately why Mingyu was so bent on taking his time, to begin with. Even with the careful preparation, the stretch of Mingyu's cock sliding in him is more than Jihoon expected. He clutches Mingyu's sheet in both hands, biting down on his lower lip to muffle his own whimpering the best he can. It's not painful, at least, but it is a lot, making Jihoon's muscles burn. By the time Mingyu stops, their thighs pressed together, Jihoon feels filled to a ridiculous degree. Mingyu's head dips forward, laying his forehead against Jihoon's chest, holding himself up on his hands. 

He breathes unevenly against Jihoon's skin, pulling his hips back slowly. Jihoon lifts one hand to grip the muscle of Mingyu's shoulder rather than the bed, nails biting into his skin. Mingyu doesn't seem to notice, one of his hands sliding under Jihoon's thigh, holding it tightly to give himself better leverage as his hips saw back and forth. His thrusts are slow, to begin with, but each time he pushes himself in fully Jihoon ends up breathing out a sharp sigh.

Hooking his leg around Mingyu's hip, Jihoon pushes his hips upwards as much as he can, trying to prolong the friction as much as he can. Jihoon's nails drag from his shoulder to hold his bicep instead, head tilting back against the bed as he groans, too absorbed to try and stop himself at this point. His back bows away from the sheets as Mingyu's pace picks up, their skin slapping sharply together each time Mingyu bottoms himself out.

Jihoon's whole body feels like it's on the edge of overheated, sweat causing his bangs to stick to his forehead. Mingyu's hand smooths along his back, fingers spread wide, pressing each bump of Jihoon's spine. Jihoon holds tighter onto Mingyu's arm, pulling sharply and bringing Mingyu down to press the two of them together, chest to chest. Mingyu can probably feel the embarrassing pumping of Jihoon's heart, both of his arms wrapping around Mingyu's neck now, gripping his back. Mingyu groans, pressing the sound into the skin of Jihoon's shoulder, biting down hard enough that he's likely to leave a mark.

Mingyu's hips angle upward, using his hand on Jihoon's thigh to help position him so each thrust of his cock rubs against Jihoon's prostate. Jihoon whines, turning his head to press his face against Mingyu's neck, his nails dragging down the broad expanse of Mingyu's back. He's likely leaving welts behind, but at the moment Jihoon can't make himself care. He does his best to roll his hips back onto every thrust of Mingyu's cock, doing little more than interrupting the rhythm. 

One of Mingyu's hands works its way between their bodies, wrapping around Jihoon's dick and stroking him. Jihoon's hips squirm against the bed, unsure if he wants to thrust up into the tight circle of Mingyu's fist or shove himself down on Mingyu's cock instead. He ends up somewhere in between, gripping onto Mingyu and trying to prolong contact everywhere he can. Mingyu's head lifts, and Jihoon leans up quickly to kiss him, fast and aggressive, using more tongue and teeth than anything else.

Jihoon's skin feels white hot, and there's a tight feeling in his stomach like a string on the verge of snapping. Mingyu thrusts into him, sharp and almost erratic, and Jihoon comes like that, whimpering into Mingyu's mouth. Mingyu's hand continues jerking his cock, working Jihoon through the orgasm, the pounding of his hips losing a sense of pace. Jihoon slumps back onto the bed, letting Mingyu hold his leg up, struggling to control the small whines he's making as Mingyu fucks him to the edge of hypersensitivity.

He finishes with a low, shuddering sound that Jihoon is sure is going to be stuck in his head forever. Mingyu slumps forward, careful to catch his weight on his elbows, his head resting against Jihoon's chest as he struggles to catch his breath. Jihoon does the same, petting his fingers through Mingyu's hair thoughtlessly for a moment. The feeling of Mingyu carefully pulling out of him makes Jihoon wrinkle his nose. He's surprised when rather than lifting himself up again, Mingyu leans down further, his tongue ticklish on Jihoon's stomach as he drags his tongue over the skin, licking up the mess of come Jihoon left on himself.

"Jesus," Jihoon mumbles, his fingers tightening in Mingyu's hair mostly out of surprise. It makes him squirm against the bed again, too tired to be worked up again so soon, but appreciative of the attention anyway. Mingyu presses a feather light kiss against the side of Jihoon's stomach when he finishes, sitting up with a flush on his face that's probably more from exertion than anything else, but makes him look cute nonetheless. He's careful in throwing the condom away, pulling his boxers back on and looking down at Jihoon, still flopped uselessly on the bed.

"I'll be right back," he says, managing to somehow sound amused before stepping out into the dark hall. Jihoon stretches his legs out, wondering if he should take the chance to gather his clothes up and leave. He makes it as far as pulling his underwear back on before the soreness in his legs catches up with him and he simply rolls himself to the side instead.

He can wait until Mingyu finishes whatever he's doing, at least.

Mingyu returns a moment later with a damp cloth in his hands, looking shy as he passes it over to Jihoon. Blinking for a moment before he uses it to wipe his stomach off, Jihoon bites the inside of his cheek.

He _should_ get up and leave. That's how these kinds of hook ups are supposed to go. But Mingyu doesn't say anything, just takes the cloth and tosses it into his hamper of clothing before climbing back onto the bed himself. He hesitates a moment, maybe wondering if Jihoon is going to get up, before wrapping an arm around Jihoon's stomach, pulling them close together, his chest pressed into Jihoon's back.

Cuddling, Jihoon is sure, is not the proper thing to be doing. He doesn't try to get away, though. He leans back slightly, using part of Mingyu's shoulder as a pillow and letting himself be wrapped up in Mingyu's overly long limbs. He's tired, anyway, and walking after all of that is only going to make him sore for the next week. Mingyu's breathing is slow and relaxed, brushing just slightly over the back of Jihoon's neck, lulling him to sleep.

**{* * *}**

Jihoon wakes up in the morning with a too-heavy arm thrown over his waist and nothing but his boxers on. He huffs, squinting his eyes closed as soon as he realizes he’s facing the window, with sunlight shining directly into his face. With a groan, Jihoon turns his head and presses his face into the pillow under his head, wondering if he can himself back to sleep.

He isn’t even sure what time it is since between the two of them Jihoon is sure that he and Jeonghan could sleep for days on end. There’s a low, rasping groan behind him, followed by the arm around his waist tightening that serves to remind Jihoon that he absolutely isn’t in Jeonghan’s bed right now.

For a moment, Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut tighter, not sure if he wishes he were with Jeonghan or not. He’s not exactly sure how things are supposed to work with one night stands, but he’s pretty sure that waking up in Mingyu’s bed with the boy still holding onto him like a clinging octopus is the wrong way of going about things. With a sigh, Jihoon drags himself upright, shoving Mingyu’s arm off of him.

Apparently, he doesn’t sleep half as heavily as Jihoon does, because when he’s rolled to the slide he stirs, rubbing one hand over his face with another low groan. Jihoon scowls, dragging himself out of the bed and doing his best to arrange his hair into some kind of order. He can only hope that it’s somehow early enough that perpetual early bird Wonwoo isn’t around to catch him taking the walk of shame out of his apartment. Mingyu blinks slowly up at Jihoon as he starts gathering his clothes to get dressed, a sleepy smile spread across his face.

“Morning,” he mumbles, sounding far too happy about that fact. Jihoon would like to blame his currently darkening mood on being forced out of bed so early, but he’s fairly certain that if he climbed back into Mingyu’s bed and insisted on at least three more hours of sleep, he wouldn’t find himself getting kicked out.

But that in itself is a problem, and Jihoon waves his hand vaguely before turning his back to get dressed. He probably should have left last night, rather than letting himself stay.

It isn’t that Jihoon can’t handle the awkwardness of a morning after, though he certainly doesn’t relish it. But Mingyu hardly seems like the type for one night stands, and Jihoon wants nothing less than a messy romantic entanglement to ruin his life. The thought makes him wrinkle his nose, pulling his hoodie over his head and wishing he knew where his other sock was.

“Headed out?” Mingyu asks, his voice hesitant. Jihoon nods his head, trying his hardest to think of anything to say.

“Yeah,” he answers, which is hardly eloquent. “I have work to do.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, stretched out on his stomach on the bed. His hair is no longer gelled into style and instead has become something of a wild thing on top of his head. Mostly dressed at this point, Jihoon bites the inside of his cheek, curling his hand into a fist in the pocket of his hoodie. It shouldn’t be so tempting to run his fingers through Mingyu’s hair and mess it up further. Jihoon hardly likes physical contact from people he already knows.

Mingyu sits up, stretching his arms over his head, and Jihoon pauses searching for his last piece of clothing to stare for a moment. In the dark, there wasn’t a good chance for him to entirely appreciate how nice Mingyu now looks without his shirt. He’s lean, but the muscles of his arms and chest still stand out. He catches Jihoon in his staring and grins, his eyes curving into little half moons.

Annoyed, and finally having spotted his sock under Mingyu’s desk, Jihoon rolls his eyes before putting it on, his back leaning against Mingyu’s desk for support. He’s less sore than anticipated at least, and the slight ache in his hips won’t be too obvious to anyone else. Mingyu shifts his way to the edge of the bed, blanket still draped half over his lap, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Um,” he says, soft and uncertain and Jihoon braces himself, wishing there was an easy escape. “I had a good time.”

Jihoon would like it if the floor opened up and swallowed him. He can't think of anything to say so instead he just nods. Mingyu licks his lips nervously before he smiles again.

“We can hang out again sometime if you want,” he says it in such a bright voice that Jihoon isn't sure if he's being propositioned or not. “Since you're friends with Wonwoo-hyung I'm sure I'll see you around.”

“Right,” Jihoon says, his fingers twisting together. He still isn't sure of the protocol for these hook ups, so he waves awkwardly before letting himself out. 

His shoes are where he left them, with Wonwoo’s kicked off carelessly a few steps away, and for a moment Jihoon doesn't notice Wonwoo bent over his computer on the couch, a slight frown on his face.

“You know I figured moving in with Mingyu meant I was safe from shit like this,” he says, looking up and making Jihoon nearly leap out of his skin. He turns toward Wonwoo with a glare, shaking his head.

“Don't start,” he says, more of a lament than a true threat. Wonwoo raises one of his eyebrows, fingers paused on the keys of his laptop.

“I'm just saying. This is the reason I didn't want to live with Soonyoung.”

“You didn't want to live with Soonyoung because you two would fucking kill each other in a week,” Jihoon says, shaking his head, stalled in the middle of putting his shoes on. “It had nothing to do with who he sleeps with.”

At that, Wonwoo cracks a smile, showing the deep smile lines on his face. “Am I pretending I didn't see you here, Hoon-ah?”

Jihoon scowls at him for that, reluctant to answer. It's likely the first thing Wonwoo will do if Jihoon says he doesn't care is tell Soonyoung or Jeonghan, and he's not sure which option is worse. But, Jihoon’s terrible taste in best friends aside, he’s not sure how long it'll stay secret with or without Wonwoo’s help.

So, he shrugs his shoulders with a weary sigh. He would rather escape before he has to spend more time with Mingyu and his bed head than argue about his questionable choices with Wonwoo.

“It’s not a big deal,” he says, though he's not sure if he's agreeing or setting up his defense. Still, Wonwoo nods like he understands.

“I'll see you later, then,” he says, turning back to his laptop with half a grin still on his face. Jihoon lets himself out with a small sigh and a shake of his head.

It's as he's passing Jeonghan’s apartment that he remembers his bag is still there and stops in the middle of the sidewalk to press a groan into his hands.

So much for keeping things a secret.

Jihoon sighs, knocking on the door and saying a silent prayer that Jeonghan is still asleep and his roommate is around. For once that morning, luck seems to be on his side, because it is Joshua who answers.

He's dressed, and it seems unlikely that he just rolled out of bed himself, but he gives Jihoon a cheeky little smile. “You're not usually up so early.”

“Hyung has my bag,” he says, nodding his head when Joshua steps aside to let him in. There's a curious look on his face and Jihoon finds himself making a nervous excuse. “I think I left it at work, he texted me about it last night.”

Joshua nods his head, though Jihoon isn't sure if he actually believes the lie or not. Still, Jihoon lets himself into Jeonghan’s room as quietly as possible, not surprised to find that Jeonghan is still fast asleep. Jihoon wonders if he's lucky enough that Jeonghan will wake up and simply think that Jihoon took his stuff the night before. It’s unlikely to actually work, Jihoon knows, but it’s better than having to explain to Jeonghan where he was first thing in the morning.

He can see one of Jeonghan’s eyes peek half open, evaluating if he wants to ask Jihoon what’s going on or not. He decides against it, evidently, because he merely shakes his head and closes his eyes again. Jihoon sighs, denying to himself that it’s out of relief. He shakes his head once before letting himself out, digging his headphones out of his bag and hoping he’s not unlucky enough to run into anyone else on his way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My hope is to update this weekly, but we will see how that goes!!
> 
> If you'd like you can also talk to me on tumblr (@yong-8) or twitter (@ravidogs)


	2. getting greedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is much better, Mingyu decides than kissing Jihoon in the middle of the night while half drunk. There’s still light streaming in from the window, and he can make out the details of Jihoon’s face when he leans back, his weight settling in Mingyu’s lap in a way that makes it all too obvious exactly how much Mingyu is enjoying himself.

“I can’t believe you and Seungkwannie ditched me last night,” Seokmin huffs, the point of his chin resting on Mingyu’s shoulder. It’s at least the fifth time he’s complained about this in the last hour, and Mingyu rolls his eyes, not taking them off of his notes. He’s refused to tell Seokmin why he went home so early, and he’s not going to be worn down by the whining in his ear, no matter how annoying it gets.

Across the table, it seems like Minghao is actually studying, or at least he’s glaring at his laptop with enough intensity to bore a hole straight through the screen. Mingyu stretches one long leg under the table, nudging the toe of his shoe against Minghao’s ankle, trying to break his laser-like focus.

“Where did Seungkwan go, anyway?” He asks, rolling his shoulder to try and dislodge Seokmin. They have this study group every Saturday afternoon, even if things rarely get done. Minghao is the only one of the three of them with any capacity to focus, and so Mingyu and Seokmin spend most of their time trying to distract him anyway.

Seokmin flops himself back in his chair with a long sigh, his arms draping down at his sides. “He ran off to talk to Hansol.”

He coos the name, looking over at Mingyu and batting his eyelashes rapidly. Mingyu can’t help but laugh, even if Seokmin goes immediately back to pouting afterward. There’s no reason for it; he probably spent the brunt of his evening hanging off of Soonyoung, anyway. Mingyu doesn’t point this out, however, because he’s not sure he wants to engage any further with this argument.

“Are you mad or are you jealous?” Minghao asks, kicking back at Mingyu under the table. Mingyu jerks, moving his legs away barely in time to avoid getting his shin bruised. Seokmin wrinkles his nose at the question.

“I’m upset that none of my friends wanted to spend time with me,” he says, leaning his arms on the table. Minghao smirks, leaning forward as well to rest his chin on his hand.

“You’re jealous because they were both having love lives.”

“I wasn’t,” Mingyu says, too quick. Both of them turn to him, curious looks on their faces, and Mingyu can feel the tips of his ears start to go red. In retrospect, it’s a strange thing to try and defend himself from. And it’s certainly not that he’s _bothered_ by spending the night by Jihoon, but he knows that Seokmin is one of his friends and talking about it seems… awkward.

“Did someone deflower our Mingyu last night?” Seokmin asks, his voice an overly loud whisper. He presses a hand to his open mouth, and Minghao does the same. Mingyu would like to kick the both of them.

“You know that phrase only works if I was a virgin to start with,” Mingyu says, sighing at the both of them. He’s glad Wonwoo decided not to say anything before leaving, at least, though the smug, knowing look on his face when Mingyu finally slunk his way out for breakfast was enough.

“Are you saying you weren’t?” Minghao says, tilting his head. He has one of those smiles on his face that’s probably supposed to be cute, but just reminds Mingyu of how often Minghao makes fun of him like this.

“Yes, and shut up,” Mingyu frowns, picking his pen up and glaring at his notebook once more. He isn’t lucky enough that the two of them take that as a sign and actually leave him alone, but it was worth a try.

“So who was it?” Seokmin says, back to leaning his head on Mingyu’s shoulder. “I bet I know them.”

This is a fair bet since Lee Seokmin seems to know everyone who goes to their school. Mingyu decides not to respond to avoid incriminating himself further.

“It definitely has to be someone we know,” Minghao adds, curling his fingers under his chin, apparently deciding just now that teasing Mingyu is more important than his paper. “Otherwise he’d tell us.”

“That’s a good point,” Seokmin says, nodding his head with a faux-serious expression on his face. Mingyu groans, dropping his forehead to the table and doing his best to hide behind his long arms.

He realizes too late this is a mistake because Seokmin is still leaning on him and there are absolutely scratches on his back that he can see now. He tries to sit up again, only to find Seokmin pushing his shoulders down, staring at the back of his neck. “Woah!”

Minghao laughs, leaning across the table, his fingers plucking at the neckline of Mingyu’s t-shirt. So much for keeping things to himself. Mingyu keeps his head down until Seokmin tries lifting up his shirt. He sits up, batting both their hands away from him, sure that his face has to be bright red at this point.

“Maybe I got in a fight,” he says, still trying to cover his face with his hands. Minghao just laughs harder at that.

“A fight with what?”

“Shut up,” Mingyu says again, finally dropping his hands to frown at the both of them. Seokmin pats his arm.

“It’s okay, we can keep your secret for you,” he says, probably trying to sound reassuring. Mingyu feels anything but since the two of them are already assuming he’s going to tell them.

“Neither of you can keep any kind of secret,” Mingyu says, pushing his chair back from the table. He can’t exactly escape since the two of them are in his apartment, to begin with, but at least he can get a snack to distract himself. The two of them continue staring at him while he rummages through one of the cabinets, eventually pulling out a bag of sweet potato crisps to eat while he does his best not to say anything else incriminating.

Like asking Seokmin if he knows Jihoon’s phone number since he couldn’t convince Wonwoo to give it to him earlier. He should have asked before Jihoon left, probably, but Mingyu hasn’t actually taken someone home just for sex before, and he wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. And he definitely can’t ask now, since Seokmin might not put two and two together, but Minghao certainly would. Mingyu sits down again with a huff, batting away Minghao’s hand immediately when he reaches to steal chips. It’s likely that he’ll end up sharing anyway, but at the moment he’s annoyed with the both of them and in no mood for it.

“Did you stay over at Soonyoung’s?” Mingyu asks, hoping it serves well enough as a distraction. Seokmin’s face lights up pink and he looks away for a moment before shaking his head. Minghao scoffs slightly, his eyes starting to dip back to his paper, though he’s clearly reluctant to start working again. But Seokmin clears his throat and refuses to look at either of them. Mingyu blinks, leaning in and trying to get Seokmin to look at him.

“What did you do?” He prompts, shaking the chips under Seokmin’s nose, grinning when he glances down at them.

They probably shouldn’t be nearly so entertained by this kind of gossip, but Minghao is back to grinning at Seokmin, his hand darting forward to steal a chip and eat it for himself.

Seokmin groans, looking back at both of them, smiling despite the flush on his face. “Why are you both so annoying?”

“Kissed him,” Minghao says, after finishing the chip and stealing another, earning a glare from Mingyu. Soonyoung has something of a reputation for being a playboy, but after hearing Wonwoo talk about him, Mingyu isn’t sure how deserved it is. Seokmin ducks his head, trying to hide again, though he nods.

“Going on a date with him?” Mingyu asks, setting a chip in front of Seokmin like he’s trying to tempt a shy dog. Seokmin sighs, like he wasn’t dying to tell the two of them anyway, popping the chip in his mouth before nodding.

Mingyu cheers and Minghao rolls his eyes even though he’s smiling. “Finally.”

“Shut up,” Seokmin says, though there’s no heat to it. Finished using his snack for bribes, Mingyu deposits the bag in the center of the table after taking a handful for himself. The two of them dive in without so much as a thank you, which is exactly what Mingyu should have expected from the people he’s friends with.

**{* * *}**

Living with Wonwoo means that Mingyu has had to get used to a few things. The first is that there are times when he might not catch sight of his housemate for a few days, usually because he’s become distracted by some breakthrough in whatever he’s working on and is refusing to leave his room for anything that isn’t absolutely required.

The second is that while Wonwoo can be weird, not at all funny, and reclusive at times, he has a surprising number of friends who are happy to do nothing more than come and sit in the living room and annoy him while he struggles to write. Which is why Mingyu shouldn’t be surprised to come home and find Jihoon to be one of the people stretched out on his couch, staring at the screen of his phone with one headphone in his ear while Junhui drapes himself over Wonwoo’s back like a cat, watching him type on his laptop.

On the other end of the couch is someone Mingyu doesn’t recognize, also leaning himself into Wonwoo’s space, one hand idly toying with the end of his long ponytail. Wonwoo glances up when the door shuts behind Mingyu, adjusting his glasses and blinking, a blank expression on his face. “Please save me.”

“Nah,” Mingyu says, bending over to make a neat line of all the shoes in their doorway before taking his own off. He takes a seat on the floor, his back against the couch, long legs stretched out in front of him and does his best not to glance up at Jihoon. He can’t tell if Jihoon has even noticed him, since his eyes don’t leave his phone, but the boy with the long hair certainly has, leaning around Wonwoo to look down at Mingyu.

“That’s him, right?” He asks, glancing at Wonwoo then Jihoon, and for a second Mingyu’s stomach drops through the floor.

“Yes, hyung. That’s Mingyu,” Wonwoo says, looking back at his screen. The boy nods his head, untangling himself from the pile of Junhui and Wonwoo’s limbs to stand above Mingyu and hold his hand out, a smile on his face.

“Good! I keep missing my chance to meet you. I’m Jeonghan,” he says, and for some reason that makes Mingyu more worried, even as he leans up to shake his hand. Jeonghan nods, leaning over and patting Jihoon on the head. “Even our cute Jihoon-ah got to be friends with you before I did. It’s not fair.”

“I told you I talked to him for like five minutes,” Jihoon says, hardly glancing up. Jeonghan huffs, nudging Junhui to the side and stuffing himself into the vacated space, making Jihoon lean on his side rather than the couch, wrapping an arm around his stomach. Jihoon looks up at that, a slight frown on his face. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get your attention,” Jeonghan says as if that should be entirely obvious. Jihoon rolls his eyes but locks the screen of his phone, tilting his head back and giving Jeonghan an expectant look.

Junhui laughs, muffling the sound of it against Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“You’re one of Seokminnie’s friends,” Jeonghan says, looking back at Mingyu now, one of his eyebrows raised though he didn’t actually ask a question. Mingyu nods his head, doing his best not to stare at the way Jihoon curls himself up slightly more, leaning into Jeonghan. Jeonghan looks down at him with a smile, fiddling with the ends of Jihoon’s hair.

“Yeah,” he says, looking away before either of them catch him. “We had art history together last year.”

“Jeonghan-hyung is nosy,” Jihoon says, swiping the screen of his phone open again. “He’s gonna try and get your whole life story out of you.”

“Don’t be mean,” Jeonghan chides, though he doesn’t exactly try to argue with Jihoon either. Junhui looks up, nodding his head slightly.

“He asked Xiao Hao more questions than my mom did,” he says, a grin lighting up his face when Jeonghan turns to glare at him. Frowning, he jabs his elbow against Junhui’s side, managing to jostle both him and Wonwoo in the process. Wonwoo hangs his head with a sigh.

“I’m going to start locking all of you out,” he looks over his shoulder at them, mouth a straight line. “Except Jihoon.”

“Why him?” Junhui says, his arms tightening around Wonwoo’s stomach. Mingyu feels strangely nervous again, his hands balling into fists.

“Because he’s not annoying,” Wonwoo says, though he makes no effort at all to shrug Junhui off of him. Jihoon looks at all of them, his head tilting slightly like he’s considering that himself. Mingyu can’t help that he finds it cute, with Jihoon’s messy hair hanging half in his eyes and his lips parted.

He looks away before he gets too caught up. He hasn’t really done one night stands before, but he’s pretty sure he isn’t supposed to spend time after being weird and staring at Jihoon. Jeonghan seems offended by being called annoying, because he continues with poking at Junhui and Wonwoo’s sides, shaking his head. “You’re supposed to be nice to your hyung!”

Jihoon wiggles his way free of Jeonghan’s arms as the three of them start shoving back and forth, his eyes cutting over to look at Mingyu for the first time since he sat down. His mouth tightens like he’s not exactly sure what to do with Mingyu.

Not sure himself, Mingyu inclines his head and waves, hoping that the back of his neck isn’t as warm as it feels. He’s not sure if Jihoon notices, but he does climb off the couch to avoid the scuffling, settling on the floor next to Mingyu.

Mingyu shifts closer, tilting his head to the side. “What are you listening to?”

Jihoon pauses a moment before handing the free headphone over to Mingyu. Mingyu has to shift down on the floor to press it in his ear without jerking the cord, meaning he’s sitting shoulder to shoulder with Jihoon, his legs stretching to the end of the carpet.

“I’m still working on it,” Jihoon says, before starting the song once again. Mingyu nods his head, leaning his weight against Jihoon’s side. The song has a surprisingly sparse sound to it, but the melody is there.

“You did that?” Mingyu asks when he’s sure he won’t be interrupting the music, and Jihoon nods. 

“I’m a production major,” he says, leaning into Mingyu’s side a little in return. Mingyu nods, tilting his head back against the couch, doing his best to focus on the music.

It lasts until Wonwoo struggles his way free, dumping Junhui off his back and nearly onto the floor. He falls against Jeonghan, the both of them laughing, while Wonwoo rights his glasses and glares at them.

“If the two of you can’t stop acting like kids I’m gonna kick you out,” he says, his voice a low rumble, sitting back down and pulling his laptop into his lap. Junhui flops over against him immediately, his hand falling on Wonwoo’s thigh. It’s ignored, which doesn’t really surprise Mingyu at all.

The song changes, this one sounding more completed, and for a moment Jihoon doesn’t seem to recognize it. Jeonghan leans over the two of him, putting his chin on top of Jihoon’s head. “Are you showing off?”

“No,” Jihoon says, shaking his head to try and dislodge Jeonghan. He pauses the music, plucking the headphone out of Mingyu’s ear abruptly. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, draping his arms over Jihoon’s shoulders.

Mingyu shuffles away nervously, bumping his chin against Wonwoo’s knee instead, dodging the elbow that gets aimed at his temple. “Are you working?”

“Is that possible with you all here?” He says, glancing down at Mingyu. Mingyu looks up with a grin and a shrug. He looks over at Jihoon again, who’s attention is back on his phone. This time Wonwoo catches him, the corners of his lips turning downward slightly.

For that, Mingyu can't entirely blame him. He and Wonwoo have been friends for more than a decade, and Mingyu knows that his dating history isn't the most flattering aspect of his personality. But, at least this time Wonwoo doesn't have a reason to worry since Mingyu isn't trying to date Jihoon.

Still, he does his best to stop himself from staring, if only to avoid the lecture later. Wonwoo sighs at him, turning his head to mumble something in Junhui’s ear instead of spending more time glaring reprimands at Mingyu.

Mingyu doesn't catch what he says, but it does make Junhui laugh, detaching himself from Wonwoo’s back for the first time to stretch his long body across the couch, his head landing in Jeonghan’s lap. “How’s your group project going?”

Jeonghan hangs his head with a groan, the sound making Jihoon frown at him as well. “Terrible. They won't listen to me at all.”

“It's because you try and delegate all the work so you don't have to do any,” Jihoon says, making Junhui grin wider.

“No, it's because none of them know anything about marketing music events,” Jeonghan sighs, his thumbs rubbing the base of Jihoon’s neck. “We're supposed to meet in ten minutes.”

“And you haven't left yet?” Wonwoo asks, turning to look over at him. Jeonghan shrugs, pushing Junhui off his lap.

“Cheollie said he might stop by and I needed notes from him,” he says, standing now, patting Junhui on the head like he's a favored pet. Junhui laughs, but he grabs Jeonghan’s wrist to pull himself to his feet. 

“My apartment is not your clubhouse,” Wonwoo says, though his complaint falls on deaf ears.

“You coming too?” Junhui asks, pausing in front of Jihoon. “I'm gonna eat while Jeonghan-hyung yells at his group.”

“I'm not going to yell at them,” Jeonghan says, bent over to slide his shoes on once again.

“Nah,” Jihoon says, pulling himself onto the couch before Mingyu does. “I’m gonna steal snacks from Wonwoo-goon and then go to work.”

Junhui nods, putting his shoes on as well, waving as he leaves behind Jeonghan.

The quiet lasts a minute before Jihoon kicks the back of Mingyu’s shoulder, grinning at him. “Snacks. And none of the spicy stuff he likes.”

He points at Wonwoo, who has his focus on the file in front of him once again. Jihoon doesn't seem bothered by being ignored, instead, he grabs the bag to the side of the couch, pulling his own computer out.

With a roll of his eyes, Mingyu goes to the kitchen to grab the sad remains of his sweet potato chips, as well as a package of rice crackers. He tosses the crackers on the couch next to Jihoon, sitting down with the chips in his lap, determined to keep them for himself for once.

Wonwoo blinks at him, wiping his glasses off on his shirt. “Shouldn't you be drawing or something?”

“Probably,” Mingyu says, grinning as he pops a chip in his mouth. “But I'm caught up for now.”

“Studio art?” Jihoon asks, his eyes not leaving the screen of his computer. Mingyu shakes his head, then realizes Jihoon probably didn't see.

“Graphic design,” he says, shrugging. “I take a lot of art classes though.”

“He’s good at everything. It’s annoying,” Wonwoo says, looking over with a smile starting to catch on his face, reaching out to steal a handful of chips out of Mingyu’s lap. Mingyu pouts, leaning his head back on the couch.

“Hyung that’s mean! And it’s not even true,” he grumbles, elbowing Wonwoo’s knee. “There’s plenty of stuff I’m not that good at.”

“Like what?” Wonwoo says, looking over at Jihoon, shaking his head slightly. “He cooks, he cleans the whole place, he draws, every person I know likes him. He’s good at everything.”

Jihoon blinks, staring at Wonwoo for a long moment before grinning. Wonwoo frowns, shaking his head hard, turning back toward his computer. “Please don’t respond to that.”

He laughs, leaning back on the couch, watching Mingyu’s face go bright red. Mingyu hides his face in his hands, shaking his head. “You two are the worst.”

Wonwoo grins, shaking his head once more before turning back to his work, the both of them apparently content to leave Mingyu alone with his mortification. 

Jihoon manages to polish off all of their rice snacks while he works, humming snippets of music to himself, his head bobbing along to the rhythm of whatever he has playing in his headphones. 

He shuts the laptop before Mingyu gives in and grabs his sketchbook to actually work on homework like the two of them, groaning. "Work."

"Don't complain," Wonwoo says, not breaking eye contact with his computer screen. "You're gonna do exactly the same thing you're doing now in the library and get paid."

"Yeah, but I also have to answer stupid questions and fix the printer," Jihoon says, climbing off the couch with a sigh. "And I took Jeonghan-hyung's shift."

"I definitely don't feel bad them," Wonwoo says, a small smile on his face. Jihoon huffs, pulling the hoodie discarded next to the couch over his head, causing his long hair to fall in a tangle around his face.

"Of course not," he says, though there's still a smile on his face.

Mingyu can't help but appreciate it, seeing Wonwoo getting along with so many people. He's been around long enough to make himself a fixture of Wonwoo's life, but Mingyu knows that the list of people Wonwoo is close to has always been short.

Jihoon ducks down to tie his shoes on, and for a moment Mingyu wonders if he should say something before he leaves. He doesn't get the chance, because while he's still debating it, Jihoon mumbles a quick goodbye and leaves, waving at the two of them.

Wonwoo casts a single glance over at Mingyu after the door shuts, shaking his head. "Bad idea."

With a frown, Mingyu pushes himself onto the couch, deciding to act like he has no idea what Wonwoo is talking about.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu is if only just barely, resisting the urge to complain about his love life to Seungcheol. The main factor helping him keep his mouth shut is he apparently isn’t friends with anyone that doesn’t also know Jihoon.

But the cafe is dead except for the few students camping out at tables, and Mingyu is leaning on the counter, arms folded under his chin, trying to think of something else to talk about.

“What are you moping about?” Seungcheol asks, slapping the back of Mingyu’s shoulder to try and get him to respond. Mingyu whines, doing his best to bat Seungcheol away with one lazy hand.

“I’m not,” he says, even though he definitely is. He still can’t get Wonwoo to divulge Jihoon’s number, and he was too shy to ask for it before Jihoon left with the rest of them.

He’s not sure if he even should be so bent on getting it. He’s probably supposed to ignore that he and Jihoon had sex and just go about his business, but it feels odd. He glances up in time to Seungcheol roll his eyes.

“Did someone steal your food or something?” He asks, turning back to washing one of the carafes. Mingyu should also be working, probably, but things are mostly clean and they haven’t seen very much business in the last hour.

“No,” he says, standing and trying to look like he isn’t sulking. He grabs one of the empty pitchers, starting a fresher batch of cold brewed coffee as he tries to think of the best way to phrase the question on his mind.

“How do you be friends with someone you slept with?” He asks, not sounding nearly as casual as he means to. Seungcheol turns toward him, both eyebrows raised, and Mingyu immediately ducks his head.

Seungcheol continues staring, clearly expecting Mingyu to fill in the background of that question. When he doesn’t say anything more, Seungcheol gives a small glance around, making sure none of the other students are paying attention to the two of them. “Since when are you sleeping with people you don’t know?”

“I’m not,” Mingyu says, shaking his head, even though that’s not strictly true at this point. “It was just the one time, it’s not like it’s a habit.”

“Uh huh,” Seungcheol says, leaning his back against the counter and drying his hands off on the apron tied around his waist. “And now you want to be friends with this person.”

“I guess,” Mingyu says, wishing he hadn’t brought the topic up at all.

“And you think I’d know something about that,” Seungcheol continues, sounding more doubtful than before. Mingyu shrugs, stepping to Seungcheol’s other side to fill the pitcher with water.

“You’re my hyung, aren’t you supposed to give me advice?”

“My advice is not to screw around with strangers,” Seungcheol says, shoving Mingyu and nearly making him drop the whole thing. “What made you think that was a good idea?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Mingyu sighs, sticking the coffee in the small fridge on the counter to brew. “I didn’t really think that hard about it.”

“Of course not,” Seungcheol says, sighing. “And now you wanna go on a date?”

“No!” Mingyu says, too loud and too fast, making people look up at the two of them. He laughs awkwardly, trying to lower his voice. “I just… he seems interesting. I wanted to get to know him better.”

Seungcheol looks deeply unimpressed.

Before Mingyu can formulate a better defense, the bell above the door rings and he’s forced to drop the subject in favor of helping.

It’s just his luck that it’s Jihoon, looking ragged and tired, holding onto Jeonghan’s arm like he couldn’t find his way otherwise. Seungcheol looks at them with a roll of his eyes that Mingyu knows is fond, waving.

“Has Jihoon-ah not been sleeping?” He asks, hands already going through the motions of making espresso for the both of them. Jeonghan nods, patting Jihoon’s head.

“He just needs coffee,” he says, though rather than looking down at Jihoon his eyes follow every one of Seungcheol’s motions. Jihoon huffs out a tired sigh, rubbing his eyes and looking up. He seems confused for a moment, tilting his head back to look up at Mingyu like he wasn’t expecting to see him there.

“Oh,” he says after a moment, rubbing his eyes again. “I didn’t know you work here.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu answers, trying to act like his heart isn’t lodged in the back of his throat. There’s no reason he should feel so awkward around Jihoon, especially since Jihoon doesn’t seem bothered in the least.

Maybe he’s more used to the whole idea of a one night stand than Mingyu is. Jeonghan frees himself from Jihoon to lean over the bar, watching Seungcheol.

“Cheollie are you still busy this weekend?” He asks, fingers drumming an uneven rhythm on the top of the counter. Mingyu catches Jihoon rolling his eyes, and after Seungcheol looks up and shrugs, Jeonghan continues talking. “Me and Shua were talking about going to see that new horror movie, you should come with us.”

“I’m absolutely busy,” Seungcheol says, frowning as he drops ice into a plastic cup. “So busy I’ll never be able to make it to the movies.”

“It’ll be fun,” Jeonghan says, leaning in closer. Seungcheol turns to face him, not seeming aware of how close the two of them are.

“It won’t be fun at all,” he says, putting a lid on the coffee with a shake of his head. He hands it over to Jeonghan but lingers for a moment before starting on the next one. “You and Joshua will laugh when I get scared.”

“I would never,” Jeonghan says, in a voice that makes it sound like that’s exactly what he’s going to do. “I’ll even hold your hand the whole time.”

Jihoon scoffs at that, quietly enough that Mingyu is the only one who hears him. There’s a small smirk on his face, watching Jeonghan trying to wheedle Seungcheol into going like it’s terribly amusing.

Seungcheol is sulking, which is the first time Mingyu has ever seen such a thing from him. “I’m not going with the two of you. I learned my lesson last time.”

Jeonghan tosses a quick glance at Jihoon, who looks back at him and shakes his head. But Jeonghan smiles, putting his arm over Jihoon’s shoulder and pulling him close. “We’ll take Jihoon-ah too!”

“No,” Jihoon says, though it seems like both of them ignore his protest. Mingyu finds himself hovering awkwardly, feeling forgotten in the conversation though he’s not sure what to do with himself.

“Jihoon-ah doesn’t even get scared,” Seungcheol says, his frown deepening. He sets down the plastic cup and grabs Mingyu by the elbow, hauling him to stand in front of Jeonghan. “Invite Mingyu-ya too, don’t be rude.”

“Wait,” Mingyu says, holding both his hands out in front of him. “I don’t like scary movies.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Seungcheol looks all too happy to hear he won’t be alone in his fear. His hand tightens on Mingyu’s elbow, and Jeonghan looks happier than he did before.

“So it’ll be all of us then,” he says, the straw for his drink resting against his lower lip. Jihoon rolls his eyes, glancing at Mingyu with half a smile on his face, both of their protests having been discarded. Seungcheol hesitates, seeming to just realize he’s signed both of them up rather than found a way out, but after a moment he nods.

Jeonghan beams, taking a long sip of his coffee before nodding. “Good! So we’ll go on Friday since I know Jihoon-ah doesn’t have to work.”

“Sure I do,” Jihoon says, his voice flat, reaching his hand out for his coffee. His other hand is hidden, the too-long sleeve of his sweater concealing it, and Mingyu can’t help but find it cute. He takes the coffee, giving Seungcheol a small nod before turning and smacking Jeonghan with the loose fabric. “Stop signing me up for shit.”

“You’ll have fun,” Jeonghan says with a shrug, digging several rumpled bills out of his pocket. It’s more than he needs to pay for both coffees but he waves his hand dismissively at Mingyu. “Tip.”

He starts to turn, then pauses, finally releasing Jihoon to pull his phone out of his pocket. “Oh! I need Mingyu-ya’s number to make plans.”

Mingyu nods, finishing putting the cash into the register before taking Jeonghan’s phone carefully. He nearly drops it anyway, and both Seungcheol and Jeonghan do their best to smother their laughter. Jihoon’s lips tilt up into a slight smile as well, and Mingyu shakes his head, smiling as well. He’s more careful about handing the phone back, at least, and Jeonghan gives him an easy smile for it.

When the two of them leave, Seungcheol heaves a too heavy sigh, leaning his arms on the counter. “I hate scary movies.”

“Why go?” Mingyu asks, laughing as he slaps Seungcheol on the shoulder. He’s ignoring the fact that he got press-ganged into going himself.

Seungcheol glances up, frowning before shrugging his shoulders. That seems to be all the answer he has, and Mingyu smacks his shoulder once more before turning to wiping down the counter.

**{* * *}**

By the time Friday rolls around, Mingyu finds himself strangely nervous. Probably because like Seungcheol, he’s not a fan of horror movies. It only adds to his nerves that outside of Seungcheol he doesn’t really know any of them.

Jihoon doesn’t really count, he’s pretty sure since Mingyu has only seen him twice outside of the first time.

So, when he arrives at the theater to see just Jihoon standing there, in an over-sized hoodie, one hand freed from the long sleeves to hold his phone. Mingyu almost hesitates as he walks over, tucking a hand into his pocket as he walks over.

Jihoon glances up, blinking for a second before nodding his head. “Jeonghan-hyung is ditching Joshua-hyung.”

“Oh, I thought he was supposed to come?” Mingyu blinks, looking over his shoulder like he expects the two of them to be standing here.

“Nah, he just wanted Seungcheol-hyung to go on a date with him,” he says, his eyes dropping back down to his phone. “But he won’t just ask so everyone else has to jump through these stupid hoops.”

“So why are you here, then?” Mingyu asks, zipping his leather jacket as a cool breeze blows past both of them. It’s not quite winter, but it’s getting colder by the day.

Jihoon wrinkles his nose, pulling his hood up over his head with a little huff. “Because if I don’t come I’ll never hear the end of it.”

He looks up, tilting his head at Mingyu, hair falling into his eyes. Without thinking, Mingyu reaches out and brushes them back. Jihoon looks surprised like he’s not sure what to do. Mingyu drops his hand quickly, laughing just a little. “Sorry, it’s a habit.”

Shrugging, Jihoon tucks his phone in his pocket. “You’re lucky he didn’t try and get rid of you too.”

“Well now at least you have someone to hang out with,” Mingyu says, shrugging his shoulders.

Jeonghan is the next one to show up, plucking nervously at the hem of the button up he’s wearing under his sweater. He glances at Mingyu but makes his way directly to Jihoon, leaning over and planting his face into Jihoon’s shoulder. “This was a terrible idea.”

“I told you that already,” Jihoon says, patting the top of Jeonghan’s head. Jeonghan groans and Jihoon glances up at Mingyu, smiling. “He’s been doing this forever.”

“Shut up,” Jeonghan says, though it comes out a sigh. “Let me suffer in peace.”

“You wouldn’t have to if you just told him,” Jihoon says, raising an eyebrow as Jeonghan stands again. He combs his fingers through his bangs nervously, and Mingyu resists the urge to reach out and help him fix them.

He pulls at the bottom of his sweater again, and Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Don’t see why I had to be here if Joshua didn’t.”

“Because Shua was busy today anyway,” Jeonghan leans up on his toes before reaching out and tugging on Mingyu’s sleeve. “You’re tall, is Cheollie here?”

“I don’t see him,” Mingyu says, laughing softly.

Jeonghan groans, throwing his head back between his shoulders. It makes Jihoon laugh loudly, his eyes curved upward as much as his smile.

Seungcheol arrives slightly out of breath like he realized he was late and decided to run the rest of the way. Jeonghan’s hand drops from picking at his sweater, the nerves leaving his posture abruptly. He smiles, and Jihoon rolls his eyes, though Mingyu is the only one who sees it.

Seungcheol looks at the three of them with a curious furrow in his brow. “Where’s Shua?”

“He bailed on me,” Jeonghan says, pouting as if that’s actually true. Mingyu has to admit he’s good though. If he hadn’t heard from Jihoon, he would probably believe the act himself.

They each pay for their own tickets, and Jihoon stops to buy himself a popcorn that looks comically large in his small hands. Mingyu assumes at first that it’s to be shared, but Jeonghan shakes his head with a sigh.

“At least don’t get a refill this time,” he says, in a voice that almost sounds like pleading. Jihoon shrugs his shoulders, stuffing a handful into his cheeks with a defiant look up at Jeonghan.

It’s only when they take their seats in the dark theater that Mingyu remembers what he’s signed himself up for. Seungcheol, in the seat next to him, groans as the previews start. “I hate these ghost movies.”

Mingyu nods hard in agreement, gripping his piece of the armrest. Jihoon and Jeonghan both seem to be hardly interested, but by the time the opening credits finish, Mingyu is tensed like a wire getting ready to snap. Seungcheol doesn’t seem to be faring any better. He has both hands clutched into fists on top of his thighs.

When he glances over, Mingyu manages to catch when Jeonghan reaches over, wrapping his hand around Seungcheol’s. Seungcheol jolts slightly, glancing over before leaning toward Jeonghan, his temple resting against Jeonghan’s shoulder.

He slumps down in the seat, arms tucked down at his sides, trying to sit as far away from the from the screen as he can. It doesn’t help, and as the music and action both grow more intense, Mingyu does his best to hide. Jihoon looks over, grinning at Mingyu as he cringes behind his hands.

“Are you gonna make it?” He asks, his voice almost low enough to be covered by the sound of the movie. Mingyu hesitates before shaking his head.

Jihoon rolls his eyes before patting Mingyu weakly on the shoulder. “It’s not that bad.”

The ghost rises up from a shadow at the back of the screen. Mingyu sinks down further, his knees almost bumping against the seat in front of him. Jihoon sighs, reaching over and laying his hand on Mingyu’s arm, giving it a small squeeze. Mingyu glances down at him once again before reaching and grabbing hold of Jihoon’s hand.

Jihoon looks surprised but he doesn’t pull away. Nor does he complain when Mingyu flinches and does his best to tuck his head against Jihoon’s shoulder. Jihoon freezes for a moment, and Mingyu can feel him shifting like he’s not sure what to do about it. But, rather than shove Mingyu off his shoulder he simply stuffs another fistful of popcorn into his mouth with his free hand.

Mingyu takes a few sparing glances at the movie, still leaning mostly into Jihoon without thinking about it. Jihoon sighs, patting the back of Mingyu’s head when the movie ends before shoving him off by the shoulder, shaking his head with a grin on his face. “How can you be that scared?”

“It was terrifying!” Mingyu whines, sitting up all the way again. He looks over at Seungcheol, who’s still extracting himself from Jeonghan. Jeonghan looks pleased, but when Seungcheol sits upright Jeonghan grins and pats his hair.

“See, it wasn’t that bad.”

Seungcheol sighs, rubbing his palms over his face with a groan. “Never again.”

“You can pick next time,” Jeonghan says, though his grin is at odds with the reassuring pat on Seungcheol’s shoulder. Seungcheol stands, sighing once more before pushing himself out of his seat.

“You’re lucky I have to work,” he says, though he smiles, waiting for Jeonghan to go ahead of him. His hand brushes over Jeonghan’s and Mingyu can’t help but look back at Jihoon and grin.

Jihoon huffs, shaking his head and giving Mingyu a small shove. “They do that all the time. Don’t get excited.”

“It’s not a bad sign though,” Mingyu says, lagging his steps further so Jihoon gets caught behind him. There’s a frustrated noise before Jihoon jabs at his sides, making Mingyu yelp and leap out of the way. Seungcheol looks back at them, frowning slightly.

Jihoon laughs, elbowing his way past Mingyu, a grin on his face as he follows the two of them out.

**{* * *}**

Truthfully, Mingyu isn’t certain how he landed himself in this situation. He doesn’t even have the excuse he did last time since he didn’t meet up with Jihoon at a party. And, at least as far as Mingyu knows, neither of them have been drinking.

They had somehow escalated from Jihoon coming over to borrow a textbook from Wonwoo (Mingyu isn’t even sure what book, it’s possible that he didn’t even ask), to once again making out in Mingyu’s bed. It’s not exactly an ideal situation still since Mingyu knows just slightly more about Jihoon than nothing. But in the moment, Mingyu isn’t every inclined to argue. Instead, he settles his back against the wall a little more comfortably, Jihoon sitting in his lap, kneeling on the bed for more leverage to pull Mingyu into another kiss.

As much as Mingyu probably should have something to say about this, he slides his fingers back through Jihoon’s hair instead, the cap he was wearing before already discarded somewhere on Mingyu’s desk. Jihoon sighs against Mingyu’s mouth, a hand on the side of his neck. This is much better, Mingyu decides than kissing Jihoon in the middle of the night while half drunk. There’s still light streaming in from the window, and he can make out the details of Jihoon’s face when he leans back, his weight settling in Mingyu’s lap in a way that makes it all too obvious exactly how much Mingyu is enjoying himself.

Jihoon grins at that, looking down at his thighs spread over Mingyu’s, making Mingyu’s heart beat faster than could possibly be healthy for him. Still looking down, his mouth slightly open in focus, Jihoon grinds their hips together, using Mingyu’s shoulder to support himself. Without meaning to, Mingyu’s hand tightens in Jihoon’s hair, pulling on the long strands slightly. Before he can apologize for it, Jihoon groans, his shoulders curling inward.

He clamps his mouth shut immediately and with the light the tips of his ears turning red. Mingyu grins, tilting his head and biting the tip of his ear. He expects Jihoon to smack him for it, but he makes a small, muffled sound in response. He hesitates for a moment before tugging slightly with his teeth. Jihoon’s fingers tighten around his shoulders, rolling his hips forward again roughly. Mingyu releases his ear, kissing along the edge of his jaw, his hand sliding under the hem of Jihoon’s shirt.

Jihoon tilts his head toward Mingyu, his chin lifting to give Mingyu better access to the rest of his neck. He drops his hand from Jihoon’s neck, pulling open his jeans. Jihoon pushes toward his hand, and Mingyu groans, pushing up against Jihoon’s thigh. Dropping his hands, Jihoon leans back far enough to pull his shirt over his head, discarding it off the end of the bed.

Mingyu shoves Jihoon’s jeans down around his thighs, his hand rubbing his cock through his underwear. He rolls his thumb over the head, pressing the slight damp patch at the tip, biting down on the side of his neck.

At least this time Jihoon doesn’t scold him to hurry up. He pushes forward into Mingyu’s hand, breathing out a long, shaky sigh against his shoulder. He seems stuck on what to do with his hands for a moment before shoving them back through Mingyu’s hair, pushing his head back against the wall with a glare on his face before kissing him again. He bites down on Mingyu’s lip, his mouth fast and aggressive.

He sits up carefully, doing his best to lay Jihoon on his back without dropping him. He lays Jihoon’s hands at his sides with a grin, sitting up to pull his shirt off as well. Jihoon rolls on his side, kicking his jeans off, huffing when Mingyu grabs his thigh to pull him closer, on his knees between Jihoon’s legs. 

Leaning over, Mingyu grips the elastic of his underwear, kissing the bottom of his stomach. Jihoon’s leg drapes his leg over Mingyu’s back, digging his fingers into Mingyu’s hair again. “Please tell me you’re actually going to do fucking something.”

Mingyu laughs, nodding his head and pulling Jihoon’s boxers down slowly and biting the angle of Jihoon’s hip, his teeth sinking in enough to leave an indent of his teeth behind. Jihoon huffs out a small sound, but his leg flexes against Mingyu’s back. Mingyu presses another kiss against his hip, squeezing Jihoon’s thigh.

He leaves Jihoon’s underwear tangled around his legs, leaning down and pressing his mouth to the slick head of Jihoon’s cock. Jihoon does his best to strangle the sound that tries to fly out of his mouth, his fingers tugging Mingyu’s hair as his hand tenses. It isn’t hard enough to hurt, but it encourages Mingyu to slide his tongue over the slit slowly.

One of his hands rests on Jihoon’s hip, helping him hold still. He closes his mouth over the head, sliding down slowly. Jihoon’s leg drags against the sheets, and when Mingyu looks up he has his head tilted back slightly, lips parted as he stares up at the ceiling.

Pleased, Mingyu focuses on tracing his tongue over the shaft, drawing back slowly and applying suction as he goes. Almost immediately, Mingyu wishes he’d taken his jeans off before doing this. Jihoon sighs, his eyes half-closed, tongue touching the corner of his mouth. The light falling on him from the window is soft, and he seems smaller than Mingyu remembers, with slender limbs and a soft stomach.

Mingyu rubs his tongue against the underside of Jihoon’s cock, watching the muscles of his stomach tense, his leg flexing like he’s trying to pull Mingyu closer with it. Rather than continuing to tease, Mingyu lowers his mouth again, doing his best to focus on breathing through his nose rather than listening to Jihoon groan.

He seems less focused on keeping himself quiet this time, which Mingyu can’t help but appreciate. He likes the sounds Jihoon makes, and in an effort to hear more of them, he sucks in a deep breath before carefully navigating the head of Jihoon’s cock into his throat.

Shutting his eyes, Mingyu tightens his hand on Jihoon’s hip, preventing him from thrusting up. He swallows, feeling the slight burn in his throat as the muscles of it flex around the intrusion of Jihoon’s cock. Jihoon pulls at his hair again, harder this time, and it takes Mingyu a moment to realize that Jihoon is trying to pull him. Mingyu lifts his head so Jihoon’s cock is resting against his lower lip, looking up at him with a curious expression.

“You,” Jihoon says, frowning, his voice strained. Mingyu raises an eyebrow, resisting the urge to grin at him. He’s pretty sure that Jihoon isn’t above pulling the hair out of his head, even in the middle of things. Jihoon rolls his eyes, sitting up halfway, using his elbow to support him. He grabs Mingyu’s arm rather than his hair, using it to pull him forward.

Mingyu follows along easily, and when Jihoon kisses him he does grin, his hand resting on the side of Jihoon’s jaw. Jihoon huffs, though he doesn’t pull back. His hands reach around to pull Mingyu’s jeans open roughly, shoving them and his underwear down at once.

He’s surprised when Jihoon does push him back, this time he pushes Mingyu down to the bed, scowling as he pulls his underwear the rest of the way off. Mingyu’s pants remain around his thighs as Jihoon kneels over him, biting down on his lip as he wraps one small hand around Mingyu’s cock. His thumb presses down on the slit, spreading the slick precome leaking out, stroking him slowly.

With a groan, Mingyu tilts his head back, gripping the sheets with one hand. Jihoon gives him a smug looking smirk before shuffling himself slightly more forward. He adjusts his grip, holding both of their dicks together in his hand, pressed together as he strokes the both of them.

The sensation is an unexpected one, and Mingyu groans again. Jihoon’s knuckles brush lightly over his stomach and Mingyu plants his feet against the bed, his knees raised behind Jihoon. Jihoon rolls his hips forward, the pace at odds with the steady pressure of his hand, letting out a little whine as he does. 

Mingyu thrusts up in return, trying to chase more friction from Jihoon’s cock pressing against his. Jihoon presses his other hand against the center of Mingyu’s chest, using it to keep his balance, thrusting himself against Mingyu. He seems to forget about jerking the both of them off, using his hand to keep them together instead. Mingyu hardly minds, doing his best to lift his hips upwards with the same rhythm that Jihoon is using.

Jihoon ducks his head, his chin almost pressed against his chest, whining as he comes. He starts using his hand again, stroking himself through the orgasm and making a mess of Mingyu’s cock and the bottom of his stomach. Mingyu arches his back, trying to force his eyes to stay open, losing the rhythm of Jihoon’s hand as the heart in the pit of his stomach threatens to boil over as well.

He thrusts his hips up again twice, and both times Jihoon gasps softly. Mingyu comes as well, only adding to the mess on his stomach. Jihoon’s hand wraps around just him, jerking Mingyu gently until he flinches against the bed in sensitivity.

For a moment, Mingyu thinks Jihoon might fall forward onto his chest, and he braces himself for it, but instead, Jihoon rolls to the side, laying on his back a foot away, panting harshly. He looks down at his hand, nose wrinkling at the mess.

“Towel,” he says, sitting up. Mingyu would much rather melt into his bed and sleep for several hours, but he also doesn’t want to wake up with half-dried come on his chest. He sits up, pawing awkwardly through his laundry until he finds a towel that he isn’t too attached to, using it to wipe his stomach clean before handing it over to Jihoon.

Again, he isn’t sure what to say. He lays down on the bed once more, kicking his pants off but fixing his boxers back in place, stretching his arms over his head. Jihoon glances over his shoulder, and his eyes narrow slightly like he’s considering something very hard.

Then he stands, grabbing his underwear from the bed and pulling it back on. “Thanks.”

Of all the things Mingyu expected to hear, that wasn’t exactly the top of the list. The confusion must show on his face because Jihoon frowns slightly before looking away. “This was… good.”

Mingyu nods, sitting up and clearing his throat. “I don’t have your phone number.”

“Oh,” Jihoon says, his mouth slightly open. His tongue licks over his lower lip, and Mingyu does his best not to find that small gesture incredibly distracting. “Right.”

For a minute, Mingyu isn’t sure if that’s the end of their conversation. But Jihoon pulls his phone out of his bag, handing it over with red coloring the tips of his ears again. Mingyu punches his number in carefully, resisting the urge to add something like a heart next to his name.

“Um, if you want,” Mingyu starts, still staring at the phone in his hand like he isn’t already finished. “We could go and get coffee or something. I can probably get it for free.”

“I have work to do,” Jihoon says, holding his hand out to take his phone back. Mingyu nods, handing it over, wishing he hadn’t asked.

Jihoon, getting dressed once again, stuffs his phone into his pocket before pulling his shirt on. He ruffles his hand through his hair, and without thinking, Mingyu reaches out to fix it, seated at the edge of the bed.

“I don’t wanna date anybody,” he says, sighing as Mingyu drops his hand. He looks down at the floor, rather than meeting Mingyu’s curious gaze, twisting his fingers around the hem of his shirt. “But this was uh, fine. Both times. So if you wanted to just do this…”

“Just sex,” Mingyu says, tilting his head to try and catch Jihoon’s gaze. Jihoon hesitates before shrugging.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” he says, finally looking up. At least he looks like this conversation is as awkward for him as it is for Mingyu. “I’m not saying we can’t be _friends_ , I just don’t have time to date.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, even though he absolutely shouldn’t. It screams all over the kind of thing that Wonwoo is always yelling at him about. But, he had fun both times, and he definitely likes Jihoon enough to be friends with him.

So, it seems like an uncomplicated choice. He shrugs, standing before pressing a quick, friendly kiss to Jihoon’s cheek. “We can just do this.”

Jihoon nods, though he seems a little surprised. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at the door. “And… don’t tell anybody, I guess.”

Mingyu nods again, pulling his shirt over his head before smiling. “Whatever you want, Jihoon-hyung.”

That seems to help Jihoon relax, as does, apparently, having Mingyu fully dressed again. Mingyu laughs, walking over to the door with a wide grin on his face. “You’re gonna have to remind me what book it is you wanted from Wonwoo-hyung.”

Jihoon laughs at that, following Mingyu out of his room with a shake of his head. “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My hope is to keep updating this on Saturdays, if I can keep up <3


	3. round and round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s over thinking things, probably, but letting Mingyu cling onto him all the time probably isn’t sending the right signals about their relationship.
> 
> The relationship that the two of them absolutely don’t have. As quickly as Mingyu has managed to ingrain himself into Jihoon’s life, he’s still new, and anyone else he would barely count as a friend.
> 
> Mingyu is something else, something that Jihoon isn’t sure that he entirely has the right word for. More than an acquaintance, clearly, but using Soonyoung’s ‘fuck buddy’ seems too crass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An early update because I have guests coming to visit from Friday until Tuesday and I'm likely to forget otherwise. Enjoy!

Despite having agreed already, Jihoon is surprised when Mingyu shows up at the library with an extra coffee in his hand and snowflakes melting in his hair. Jihoon frowns, looking out the window and wrinkling his nose.

“How cold is it?” He asks, reaching both hands out for the oversized coffee in Mingyu’s hand. Mingyu laughs, passing it to him with a small shrug. He sets the other coffee on the counter.

“The snow just started,” he says, unwrapping the scarf from around his neck. There’s the slight shadow of a bruise on the side of his neck that Jihoon should probably apologize for leaving there. He takes a long sip of his coffee, flinching at the heat on his tongue. “Did you forget your coat again?”

“No,” Jihoon says, even though he did. It’s been just over three weeks since the two of them started… whatever their relationship is. Which has involved more casual hanging out with Mingyu than Jihoon would have expected. Even now, Jihoon agreed to spend time with both him and Seokmin. He’s not sure how exactly he got dragged into the situation, but since Mingyu is already there to meet him he’s reluctant to back out now.

Not that that’s stopped him in the past from canceling on Soonyoung, but Jihoon decides to keep that to himself for the moment. Mingyu rolls his eyes, smiling as he stands upright rather than leaning on the counter.

“Do you wanna borrow mine?” He asks, shrugging the leather jacket off his shoulders with a laugh. Jihoon sulks for a moment before nodding his head, grabbing it once Mingyu lays it on the counter.

“You told Seokmin not to be late, right?” Jihoon asks, standing and tossing his bag over his shoulder after pulling Mingyu’s massive jacket on. The sight makes Mingyu smile wider, and when Jihoon steps out from behind the desk, he leans over, wrapping his scarf around Jihoon’s neck as well.

“You’re going to freeze,” he says, though he reaches to tighten the scarf anyway. “If you catch a cold I don’t wanna hear about it.”

“I don’t get sick easy,” Mingyu says, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his coffee. Jihoon takes his own with a little sigh. They leave the library together, Jihoon walking with his coffee in both hands, using it to keep his fingers warm as he sips from it. He doesn’t ask if it’s one that Mingyu made, though he assumes so since the two of them are both ending their work shifts.

Even Mingyu’s jacket smells like coffee and the cologne that Jihoon knows he wears sometimes. It shouldn’t be a surprise, of course, that the clothes smell like him, but Jihoon tries to subtly bury his nose a little further into the scarf anyway. The snow is much earlier than Jihoon expected, and he glares at the tiny white flakes, barely any sticking to the concrete of the sidewalk.

Mingyu looks over, reaching out and ruffling Jihoon’s hair with a grin. “Are you gonna get this cut soon?”

“Who has time for that,” Jihoon says, shaking his head once Mingyu drops his hand. It’s getting too long, it hangs in his eyes constantly and it’s nearly long enough for him to pull into a sad little tail at the back of his head. Mingyu gives one of the uneven ends a small tug, his head cocking slightly to the side.

“I can cut it if you want,” he says, his hand lingering in Jihoon’s hair, the tips of his fingers skimming along the shell of Jihoon’s ear. Suddenly, Jihoon is glad for the scarf, burying his face in the knit fabric to hide the pink of his cheeks.

“So I can look more ridiculous?” He asks, shoving Mingyu’s hand away.

“I’m good at it,” Mingyu whines, shaking Jihoon’s shoulder, nearly causing him to drop his coffee. “Why don’t you believe in me, Jihoon-hyung?”

Jihoon groans, gripping his coffee tighter and wiggling his way free from Mingyu’s grasp. “Because you’re annoying, and why do you know how to cut hair?”

“My mom taught me,” Mingyu says, taking a long sip of his own drink. “Trust me, it can’t get any worse.”

Jihoon wrinkles his nose, huffing as he looks away. He lets Mingyu walk in through the glass doors of the drama building ahead of him. Mingyu turns around, shaking his head to try and dislodge the snow from his hair like a wet dog. Jihoon glares up at him, taking a quick step back to avoid any cold, flying droplets landing on him. Mingyu laughs, and when he takes another step forward, Jihoon shoves him.

Mingyu yelps, losing his balance and pinwheeling his empty hand in the air to try and catch himself. Before he has a chance to fall, Seokmin catches him from behind, laughing. Mingyu blinks, looking back at his friend, a grin spreading over his face. “Hey.”

“Are you going to thank me for saving your life?” Seokmin asks his hands still on Mingyu’s waist. “Also, why aren’t you wearing a coat?”

“Jihoon-hyung forgot his,” Mingyu says, turning his head to smack a messy kiss to Seokmin’s cheek. Seokmin groans, pulling away to wipe dramatically at his cheek.

“You’re so gross,” he whines, draping himself over Jihoon instead. “You’re all wet, hyung.”

“It’s snowing,” Jihoon sighs, detaching himself to shrug off Mingyu’s jacket, handing it back followed by his scarf. “You’re going to make us late.”

“Right,” Seokmin says, standing suddenly at attention. “Thanks for coming along! Seungkwannie is nervous.”

“The show is supposed to be really funny,” Mingyu says like he’s still trying to convince Jihoon that he shouldn’t leave. He folds his jacket and scarf over one arm, draping the other over Seokmin’s shoulder. “Did you do what he asked?”

Seokmin rolls his eyes, leaning into the the embrace with a grin. “Yes. I don’t know if it worked though.”

“What are you two up to?” Jihoon asks, raising his eyebrows at them. Mingyu grins, and Seokmin wrinkles his nose, the two of them apparently delighted by their shared secret.

“You’ll see! Hopefully,” Seokmin says, only ducking out from under Mingyu’s arm to pay for his own ticket. Jihoon isn’t exactly sure what the small production is supposed to be about, since he only agreed to go after Mingyu and Seokmin both insisted that he had to be ‘moral support’ for Seungkwan. Still, he shells out the money for his ticket without complaining, following the other two inside.

He winds up seated between Seokmin and Mingyu, who both pile their coats into an empty seat on Mingyu’s other side. Jihoon is about to scold them both for being rude, but Seokmin turns in his seat, craning his neck to scour the crowd of people slowly finding seats.

“You should text him and see if he’s coming,” Seokmin says, looking over at Mingyu. “He probably forgot.”

“He didn’t forget,” Mingyu says, settling further in his seat and shaking his head. “I talked to him about it this morning.”

“How many other people did you drag to this?” Jihoon asks, sighing at the both of them. Mingyu looks over with a shrug and a small smile.

“Seungkwan wanted us to get Hansol to come,” he says as if that should make perfect sense to Jihoon. When he simply blinks at him in response, Mingyu’s smile grows wider, leaning over to whisper in Jihoon’s ear. “Hansol-ah is one of my friends and Seungkwan has a crush on him.”

“You’re all children,” Jihoon says, looking down at his coffee with a shake of his head. “Let me guess, Seungkwan won’t just talk to him?”

“Don’t be silly,” Seokmin says, sitting properly in his seat once more. “But if he sees that Hansol is here he’ll be really happy.”

Jihoon shakes his head once more, and Seokmin sighs, throwing his arm over Jihoon’s shoulders. “Hyung! Don’t be like that. They’re going to fall in love and it’ll be beautiful.”

“Ew,” Jihoon says, shrugging Seokmin’s arm off of him. “I don’t have time for all this drama, I don’t understand how anyone else does.”

“The rest of us don’t plan on being alone forever,” Seokmin says, smiling brightly. Jihoon glares, detaching one hand from his coffee to tug at the lobe of his ear.

Seokmin yelps loudly enough that they get glares from the people around them and Mingyu laughs. Seokmin hardly bothers to sulk, though he does rub at his sore ear.

“How’re things going with Soonyoung-hyung, then?” Mingyu asks, grinning as Seokmin immediately flusters at the question. Jihoon’s lips draw into a line, looking down at his lap.

It’s not that he’s unhappy, seeing his best friend with someone as nice as Seokmin, but it does worry him a little. Soonyoung isn’t the heartless playboy that people make him out to be, but Jihoon would rather avoid anything messy and complicated between two of his friends.

But Seokmin looks happy to be asked, babbling endlessly about going out for ice cream with Soonyoung as if that wasn’t something the two of them weren’t doing already. He only breaks off his story when yet another massive, handsome boy walks over, waving one long arm with a wide smile.

“Mingyu-hyung!” He says, slightly out of breath, adjusting the beanie on his head. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

“Sure,” Mingyu says with a nod, pulling the other coats off the chair and smiling. Hansol, Jihoon assumes he has to be, settles into his seat, wiggling out of his own jacket. His smile never seems to get any smaller, and internally Jihoon wonders exactly how many relentlessly happy people he’s decided to spend his night with.

“Seokmin-hyung said if I didn’t come Seungkwan would never forgive me,” he says, blinking his large eyes. “I was worried there wouldn’t be anywhere left to sit.”

He seems to notice Jihoon then, tucked between his two much larger companions, and he quickly holds his hand out. “Sorry! I’m Hansol.

“I heard,” Jihoon says, reaching out to have his arm shaken until it’s numb by Hansol’s over-exuberance. “Lee Jihoon, I’m a third year.”

“He’s friends with Seungkwannie too,” Seokmin says, settling into his seat as the lights dim. 

The play, as it turns out, is a musical about a riot tearing apart an Ikea store in England. But, it’s far funnier than Jihoon would have expected if someone had told him what he was in for before arriving, and he finds himself leaning his head on Mingyu’s shoulder, gripping his arms while the both of them fall to pieces laughing. 

Seungkwan even has a small musical number before the end, and the four of them are on their feet cheering when he comes to the front to take a bow.

Jihoon turns to gather his coat before remembering that he doesn’t have his own. Mingyu catches him, grabbing his own jacket and holding it out with a smile. “We told Seungkwan we’d go out to eat, anyway.”

“Don’t any of you do work,” Jihoon grumbles, though he takes the jacket anyway. He’s not so behind that he has to say no, and even if he’s reluctant to admit it, making Seungkwan happy isn’t the worst way to spend his evening. Mingyu beams, holding his scarf out like he plans on giving that up again as well, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“You keep that. It’s only gonna be colder,” he says, and Mingyu rolls his eyes, draping it over the back of his neck. Seokmin shoves past the two of them, grabbing Hansol by the wrist with a wide smile.

“You two stay here, we’ll go get our star,” he says, nudging Hansol ahead of him and looking back at Mingyu and Jihoon with a wink. Jihoon rolls his eyes, stuffing his hand into the pocket of Mingyu’s coat. He hesitates before reaching up with the other, prodding the bruise low on Mingyu’s neck.

“Sorry,” he says, and Mingyu yelps, hopping away in surprise and clapping his hand over his neck. He looks down at Jihoon, his cheeks slowly turning red before shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” he answers, his voice nearly cracking. Jihoon does his best not to grin at that, stuffing his other hand in the pocket before he can give into the temptation to poke at the spot again and see if Mingyu will get even more flustered over it.

Mingyu frowns down at his feet for a moment, his face scrunched up in thought, and Jihoon elbows him lightly in the side. “I won’t do it again.”

“No! It’s fine,” Mingyu says, lifting his head quickly, his face still red. “It’s just um, I don’t have to come out to dinner if that’s weird.”

“Wouldn’t it be weirder if you just left for no reason?” Jihoon says, raising both of his eyebrows. Mingyu hesitates, and Jihoon shakes his head. “It’s a group of people going out for food, Mingyu-ya. It’s hardly a date.”

“Right,” Mingyu says, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. He looks up to find Seokmin dragging both Hansol and Seungkwan with him. Seungkwan is still trying to have a conversation with Hansol, in spite of Seokmin dragging him by the arm. He pulls his arm free with a huff and a roll of his eyes.

“You didn’t have to rush me,” he says, rubbing his wrist in complaint. Seokmin releases Hansol as well, giving Seungkwan a wide smile.

“I’m hungry,” he says, rather than apologizing. Jihoon isn’t sure that should be allowed as an excuse since he’s never known a time when Seokmin wasn’t hungry. Seungkwan sighs, clearly giving in and instead turning to the lot of them with his best smile, and it takes a moment for it to become evident that he’s not just waiting on Hansol and Seokmin.

“You did a really good job Seungkwannie,” Mingyu says after Seokmin prods at his shin. Jihoon is almost tempted to roll his eyes, watching Mingyu drop one heavy arm over Seungkwan’s shoulders and squeeze him into a too-tight hug. Seungkwan makes a sound somewhere between appreciation and having the air shoved forcefully out of his lungs.

Mingyu doesn’t seem to realize it, though he does release Seungkwan before suffocating him, giving him a grin so wide that Seungkwan forgets to be irritated, it seems. Jihoon does chuckle at that, giving Seungkwan a smile and a small ruffle of his hair instead. Seungkwan beams before nodding his head, grabbing his coat from Seokmin and pulling his shoulders, apparently satisfied for the moment.

“Alright. I promised we could go get pizza, didn’t I?” He says, turning and leading the way up the aisle. Seokmin and Hansol chase after him, both of them grinning.

“You also promised to pay, right?”

**{* * *}**

“You’ve been too busy for me again,” Soonyoung says, spread out on the floor of Jihoon’s room like a starfish, his limbs occupying every inch of floor space. Jihoon, seated cross-legged on the bed, leans over to give him an unimpressed look. He’s whining, and it hardly makes Jihoon feel very charitable.

Especially because he didn’t even invite Soonyoung over. He did, however, feel bad upon realizing they’d had plans to meet up for lunch that he had forgotten about entirely. He only realized the mistake when Soonyoung showed up at his door with fast food and a pout on his face.

So he can’t exactly just kick Soonyoung back out.

“Sorry,” he says, instead, because it’s true and even if he’s annoyed he does feel a little bad for it.

Jihoon has been too busy for _anyone_ for the last week. Jihoon rubs at his eyes, trying to soothe the burning sensation he feels every time he blinks. He’s never sure how his work seems to pile up within the space of days, but lately, he’s had so much to do that it feels like he barely even has time to breathe.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Soonyoung says, sitting up on his elbows. He tilts his head to the side, and Jihoon hunches a little further between his shoulders.

He’s going to get lectured, of course. It’s probably obvious that he’s been doing barely anything but going to class and working. The room is littered with empty instant coffee packets and his laundry has taken over more than just a corner of the room. Jihoon feels twitchy and drained, reaching to grab the large soda that Soonyoung brought along, taking another large gulp of it.

“You need a break,” Soonyoung says, which is exactly what Jihoon doesn’t want to hear.

“Can’t,” he responds, quick and sharper than he means. Soonyoung scowls, starting to sit up all the way. The motion makes Jihoon flinch back, the shadow in the corner of his vision confusing him for a moment. Soonyoung’s frown gets deeper at that.

“At least take a nap.”

“Can’t,” Jihoon repeats, trying to turn his attention back to the words on his screen. He’s not sure of anything that he’s read for the last fifteen minutes, but there’s a quiz waiting on him, so Jihoon sighs, rubs his eyes again and starts again from the top of the reading.

Soonyoung stands up, leaning over the bed until he collides bodily with Jihoon, knocking him to the side so he’s laying on the mattress, half-pinned by Soonyoung’s larger frame.

“You need to sleep,” he says, his face smashed against Jihoon’s shoulder, his voice coming out muffled. “You’ll do better if you take a nap.”

“If I take a nap I’ll feel like dying,” Jihoon bites out, struggling vainly. He could probably wiggle his way free, but that will only lead to more tussling.

He’s saved by his phone buzzing loudly from the nightstand. Soonyoung, probably hoping for support in his efforts to get Jihoon to rest, sits up to snatch it, a smile lighting on his face. 

“Why is Mingyu-ya asking if you’re busy?” Soonyoung says, staring at the screen with his brow furrowed. “I didn’t think you two hung out…”

Jihoon is not as saved as he thought.

“We don’t,” he says, reaching to try and snatch his phone out of Soonyoung’s hands. “He probably wants my help with something.”

He can’t quite reach all the way and ends up flopping over Soonyoung’s lap, where he’s pinned down again by both of Soonyoung’s arms coming to rest on his chest. Above him, Soonyoung laughs.

“Did you really text him a fucking winky face?” He asks, looking down with a grin. Jihoon frowns, trying to glare up at him, though he can feel his face starting to go red in response.

“I don’t know. What the fuck does it matter?” He snaps, even though he definitely did and it was for the exact reason he can see Soonyoung starting to put together in his mind. Soonyoung wrinkles his nose, locking Jihoon’s phone and setting it down again.

“I swear if you kick me out for a date I’ll never talk to you again.”

“Good riddance,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes and shoving Soonyoung’s arms off of him, sitting up once more. “It’s not a date. It’s nothing.”

“Any human activity you decide to indulge in is something,” Soonyoung says, his grin still in place, and Jihoon finds himself having to fight back a smile at that. “I didn’t think you were having booty calls though.”

“Why would I be telling anybody who I have sex with?” Jihoon says, shaking his head and pulling his computer into his lap once again. Apparently, Soonyoung isn’t happy to just leave it at that, because he drapes himself over Jihoon’s back like a koala.

“You’re supposed to tell me!” He whines, rubbing his head against Jihoon’s cheek. “I’m your best friend.”

“Do you need a list of everyone else I’ve ever slept with, then?” Jihoon says, sighing. He shuts the lid of his laptop, giving up on the notion that he’ll be able to end this conversation quickly.

It’s not that he’s bothered by what he’s doing. And Soonyoung of all people is hardly going to be one to judge him for having a casual relationship. But those things don’t make Jihoon any happier about having to discuss his sex life. 

“Nah,” Soonyoung says, peeling himself off of Jihoon to stretch out on the bed, realizing he’s won for the moment. “I didn’t think that was your kinda thing, though.”

Jihoon finds himself scowling at that, pulling the cap off of his head and shaking his hair out only to shove his bangs back, using the hat to trap them once more. 

“I haven’t thought that hard about it,” he says, leaning back so his head is leaning on one of Soonyoung’s thighs, shrugging his shoulders. “We messed around a few times and I told him I don’t wanna date anyone and since then it’s just been…”

He gestures vaguely with one hand, staring up at the ceiling as he speaks rather than looking at Soonyoung like somehow that will make things less mortifying for him. When he dares to glance over, Soonyoung blinks at him.

“How long have you been hiding this from me?” He asks, pressing a hand to his chest, mouth open in mock offense. Jihoon rolls his eyes, tilting his head back as he thinks.

“I dunno. Like, a month?” He says, shrugging.

“I can’t believe you’ve been sneaking around the whole time I’ve been making an honest man of Seokmin,” Soonyoung says as if that’s anywhere close to being true. Jihoon finds himself laughing, probably too hard. It's the lack of sleep starting to catch up with him.

“You're okay with that then?” Soonyoung asks, waiting until Jihoon’s laughter has died down. Jihoon pauses a moment before nodding his head.

“Sure,” he says, sitting up once more. “It's no big deal.”

Soonyoung doesn't look entirely convinced, but he doesn't ask anything further either. Jihoon is grateful for that because he doesn't want to look at the situation much closer.

Jihoon reaches for his laptop, opening it again. Behind him, Soonyoung groans, defeated.

“I thought you were talking a break,” he says, sighing when Jihoon shakes his head.

“That was my break,” he says, shrugging as he returns to reading over his notes.

**{* * *}**

This is probably the most nervous Jihoon has been around Mingyu so far. He can't help twitching in the chair, his thighs pressed firmly together like if he braces himself hard enough he can hold out a little longer.

Behind him, Mingyu laughs, his breath blowing over the top of Jihoon's head. “Hyung you have to relax.”

His fingers carding gently through Jihoon's hair are almost enough to make that happen, but then he hears the quiet snipping sound behind his head and his shoulders tense again.

“I can't believe I said you could cut my hair,” Jihoon says, for probably the hundredth time since he sat down. He's in the small kitchen of Mingyu’s apartment, with a towel draped over his shoulders. Mingyu laughs again, returning to petting Jihoon's too long hair. It's become more of a burden than Jihoon can stand, but now that he's here, asking Mingyu to cut it seems like a truly foolish choice.

“I'll do a good job,” Mingyu says seriously, his thumb rubbing a small circle into the nape of Jihoon's neck. “Just trust me.”

“Fine,” Jihoon says, his voice tight even as he leans into the soft pressure of Mingyu's fingers on his head. He has a habit of playing with Jihoon’s hair already, and Jihoon tilts his head back in an effort to prolong the contact. He lets his shoulders relax, doing his best not to think about what kind of disaster this could turn out to be. 

“Do you want me to shave the back down first?” Mingyu asks, his fingers running through Jihoon’s hair once more. Jihoon pauses for a moment before nodding his head, though he gives the clippers laying on the counter a nervous glance. Mingyu sets the scissors down, grabbing the clippers instead, pressing Jihoon’s head gently forward so his chin is against his collarbone.

“Hold still,” he says, and Jihoon can picture the smile on his face. Jihoon doesn’t nod, and when the motor of the razor starts up he screws his eyes shut.

He half expects that Mingyu will manage to slice one of his ears off, or at least shave a bald stripe into his head on accident, but apparently, all it takes is several quick swipes of his arm to shave the back of Jihoon’s hair. The droning of the razor stops, and before Jihoon sits up again Mingyu’s hand brushes over the back of his neck, batting away the tiny pieces of hair sticking to his skin.

“See, it’s not that bad,” Mingyu says, laughing, and Jihoon cracks his eyes open. He can’t exactly turn around to glare at Mingyu, so instead, he huffs a sigh. Mingyu tilts his chin up gently, the scissors in his hand again.

“If you mess it up I really will kill you,” Jihoon says, staring straight ahead. A comb passes through his hair quickly before Mingyu’s fingers come to catch a section of it.

“I know,” he says after a moment, his voice quiet. Jihoon does his best to sit still, though every time Mingyu snips another lock of hair off of his head he wants to grab the mirror from the counter and see exactly how bad he looks.

Mingyu steps around in front of him, an easy smile on his face, petting his fingers through Jihoon’s bangs. They fall completely over Jihoon’s eyes, and Mingyu laughs.

“You look cute. You should keep these,” he says, and even through his hair, Jihoon can see him grinning.

It’s only because he’s still got scissors in his hand that Jihoon doesn’t kick him in the shin for that. Mingyu leans over in front of him, their faces close together as he trims Jihoon’s bangs as well. His brow is furrowed in focus, and Jihoon grins a little when Mingyu’s tongue pokes out the corner of his lip.

He stands again after a moment, using his fingers to comb through Jihoon’s hair again, carefully studying it before nodding his head. “I think it looks good.”

“Lemme see,” Jihoon says, reaching out for the small mirror. Mingyu laughs, handing it over. The expression on his face reminds Jihoon a little of a puppy waiting to be praised.

Jihoon blinks at his own reflection, surprised to find that he actually does look much better. He tilts his head to the side, trying to find any spot that Mingyu might have messed up.

“It’s not bad,” he agrees after a moment, setting the mirror down. Mingyu grins at him, though ‘not bad’ hardly counts as praise. He pulls the towel off of his shoulders carefully, shaking his shoulders in an effort to get as much hair off of himself as possible. Mingyu takes the towel, laughing when he looks back at Jihoon.

“It’s nice being able to actually see your face,” he says, and Jihoon rolls his eyes. Now that he’s not in danger of Mingyu slicing part of his ear off accidentally, he does kick Mingyu in the shin.

“Shut up,” he says, grinning when Mingyu whines.

“You’re so mean to me, hyung,” he says, rubbing the spot on his shin with far more tenderness than necessary. It’s not as if Jihoon actually kicked him that hard. Jihoon stands, stretching his arms over his head.

“I am not,” he shoots back, mostly without thinking, dusting more short hairs off of the back of his neck. Mingyu pauses in putting things away, glancing at Jihoon with his teeth digging into his lower lip.

“Did you have dinner yet?” He asks, almost shy, and Jihoon shakes his head without really thinking about it. He hasn’t had dinner for most of the last few nights. Making time to get his hair cut by Mingyu is the first thing Jihoon has bothered with since Soonyoung showed up at his dorm to feed him. 

“I’ve still got work to do,” he says, sighing as he pulls his jacket back on, glad to not have forgotten it once. Mingyu nods his head, hands tucked in his pockets. He doesn’t look surprised, but he frowns like he doesn’t approve either.

“You should still eat something,” he says, and without being asked he turns to the side, grabbing his coat from where it’s draped over the back of a chair. “You’ll get sick if you skip meals.”

“I’m fine,” Jihoon says, sighing. Sometimes it’s nice, having friends who are close enough that they actually take an interest in his health.

Most of the time, like now, it’s annoying.

Mingyu ignores him, zipping his jacket up with a smile and tucking Jihoon under his arm. “We’re gonna get something to eat.”

They both stop to put their shoes on, and for the moment Jihoon gives up protesting. He could spend more effort on getting rid of Mingyu, but he is hungry and it’s barely worth it.

Jihoon doesn’t mind spending the time with Mingyu, as much as he’d like to keep that fact to himself.

Mingyu’s arm stays draped over his shoulders as they walk toward the small convenience store just outside the boundaries of the campus, and at first, Jihoon barely thinks anything of it. He’s used to Soonyoung and Jeonghan being touchy with him already.

“What is it you’re working so hard on, anyway?” Mingyu asks, his head tilted slightly.

“Recital piece,” he says with a sigh, rubbing both hands over his face. “I’m writing the whole thing myself, which isn’t going well.”

“Really?” Mingyu asks, his hand squeezing around the top of Jihoon’s arm. “Can I hear it?”

“I don’t exactly have a keyboard with me, idiot,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes. Mingyu laughs, and with a frown Jihoon ducks out from under his arm, tucking his hands into his pockets.

He’s over thinking things, probably, but letting Mingyu cling onto him all the time probably isn’t sending the right signals about their relationship.

The relationship that the two of them absolutely don’t have. As quickly as Mingyu has managed to ingrain himself into Jihoon’s life, he’s still new, and anyone else he would barely count as a friend.

Mingyu is something else, something that Jihoon isn’t sure that he entirely has the right word for. More than an acquaintance, clearly, but using Soonyoung’s ‘fuck buddy’ seems too crass. Mingyu hardly seems to notice Jihoon stepping away, laughing still.

“I know that! But I figured you maybe had a recording or something?” He asks, then purses his lips when Jihoon shakes his head. “What if you play it for me?”

“Why?” Jihoon asks, ducking under Mingyu’s arm when he pushes the door to the shop open. Mingyu smiles, following after Jihoon like an overgrown shadow.

“You said you were having trouble with it, right? I could help,” he says, and Jihoon barks out a laugh.

“Are you a composer now as well as a hair stylist?” He asks, looking over his shoulder. Mingyu shrugs at that, leaning over Jihoon’s head to grab a bag of the chips he likes from the shelf.

“I can tell you if something doesn’t sound right,” he says, and at least that much is probably true. Jihoon has been considering asking the same thing of Jeonghan. With a heavy sigh, he nods, grabbing himself several cups of instant noodles. 

“Alright,” he says like he isn’t basically asking Mingyu to do him a favor. “You can come over to the practice space with me.”

Mingyu grins, like watching Jihoon play won’t quickly become mind-numbingly boring for him, quickly grabbing himself a drink and a few other snacks. Jihoon does the same, figuring he might as well stock up on an extra package of instant coffee while they're out already.

When he sees the box in Jihoon's hand, Mingyu snatches it away with a groan, holding it up and shaking his head. "Tell me you don't really drink this stuff, hyung."

"What's wrong with it?" Jihoon says, grabbing it back with a little huff. It's no more unhealthy than anything else he grabbed for himself. Mingyu's face remains disturbed.

"It tastes like bad lemons," he says, shaking his head sadly. "Why don't you drink real coffee?"

"Because this is faster," Jihoon says, laying everything on the counter and giving the clerk a small nod before looking up at Mingyu. "It doesn't even taste that different."

"You can't be serious," Mingyu says, squeezing one large hand around Jihoon's shoulder. "That stuff shouldn't even be considered a beverage!"

"You're obnoxious," Jihoon sighs, handing his card over and reaching to take the bag of food. "It's fine."

"It's not fine!" He says, voice growing louder and significantly whinier. "You should at least drink real coffee!"

"This is real coffee," Jihoon says, clutching the bag to his chest. Feeling just as childish as Mingyu sounds, he sticks his tongue out, shuffling away from the counter. "Get your stuff or I'm leaving without you."

With a grumble, Mingyu takes his place, setting his things down carefully before handing his money over. The clerk looks amused by their arguing, which only makes Jihoon feel more ridiculous about the whole thing. Everything paid for, Jihoon loops the bag over his wrist, walking out ahead of Mingyu with a roll of his eyes.

"You're gonna have to be quiet in the practice room," he says, sure he'll have to scold Mingyu about it more than once.

"Why? I thought they were soundproofed," he asks, chasing after Jihoon, his long strides making it easy for him to keep pace once he's caught up. Jihoon grins.

"They are, but you're annoying," he says, laughing when Mingyu sulks at him for the comment.

"I'm helping you for the second time today and you're still mean to me?" He asks, pulling a hand from his pocket to clutch at his chest in offense. "That's too much, Jihoon-hyung."

"You can go home," Jihoon says, shrugging even as he continues leading the way to the music building. Mingyu follows after him, and Jihoon leads him down to the basement that has a variety of empty rooms for practicing singing and instruments.

Mingyu looks around the hall curiously, and Jihoon figures he's probably never been down to this part of the building before. The two rooms at the every end of the hall both have pianos already in them, and Jihoon nods at the last one, snorting when Mingyu fumbles the door shut behind the both of them.

Jihoon sets his food down on the floor, digging through his bag for a moment until he pulls out a folder filled with sheet music, most of it scribbled over with notes in his handwriting. Mingyu looks around the tiny room before walking up to the piano, tapping one of the keys like he's not sure what will happen.

Predictably, it plays a note. Jihoon rolls his eyes, shoving Mingyu in the direction of the single metal chair in the corner. "Sit."

He does, and Jihoon does his best not to laugh about it. Jihoon sets the right music on the tray before sitting down at the bench, adjusting his posture carefully.

It's hardly the first time Jihoon has played with someone watching him, of course, but he feels strangely aware of Mingyu sitting in the room. He tries not to think about or, or about the fact that Mingyu will be the first person to actually hear what he's spent the last several months painstakingly working on.

Jihoon takes a deep breath, trying to clear his mind before he begins playing.

The piece isn't finished, of course, so what feels like several hours of music only lasts a few minutes. When he stops, Jihoon finds himself staring straight ahead, rather than looking over at Mingyu. He isn't sure how he feels about the piece as a whole, but at least he played the whole thing correctly. The room rings uncomfortably with silence, and Jihoon waits until he can't take it anymore to look up at Mingyu.

Mingyu's eyes are round and bright as coins when Jihoon looks at him, but he quickly fixes his face into a bright smile. "I think it's good?"

Jihoon scowls at that, looking back at the sheet music. "Something is wrong with it."

"Oh," Mingyu says. Jihoon can hear him stand, but he's still surprised to find Mingyu suddenly leaning over his back, close enough that his breath tickles slightly on the side of Jihoon's cheek. "I don't know a lot about music."

As if Jihoon didn't have that figured out already. Mingyu stares at the music, and Jihoon leans slightly to the side to look at his face, tucking both hands into his lap. Finally, Mingyu reaches out to tap the page. "Can you play the middle again?"

"From where?" Jihoon asks, looking at the paper as well. Mingyu shrugs like he isn't sure, so Jihoon sighs, returning his fingers to the keys and simply beginning from where Mingyu has his hand.

Mingyu stands again, and Jihoon is glad for it. Playing with someone leaning that close to him is a little... odd. It's harder to focus this time, and Jihoon finds himself scowling at the music when he makes a mistake.

He stops when Mingyu taps on his shoulder, looking up with one eyebrow arched.

"I think that part sounds... different? From the rest of it," he says, rubbing the back of his neck like he's not sure. "Can you do it again?"

Jihoon nods, picking up again from the top of the movement.

Now that he's listening for it, it does sound off. Jihoon stops at the end, but without waiting for Mingyu to say anything, plays it again, more slowly this time, the frown on his face getting deeper.

"Can you grab a pencil out of my bag?" Jihoon asks, grabbing the music and holding his hand out. Mingyu nods, handing one over after a moment, looming over Jihoon's shoulder once again as he begins erasing the section.

"You're getting rid of all of it?" He asks, but he clamps his mouth shut when Jihoon shushes him.

He's not used to working with anyone else around, but Mingyu doesn't seem bothered by the silent few minutes it takes for Jihoon to redraft the section, humming bits of the melody to himself as he works.

When Jihoon lifts his head, Mingyu is seated on the floor next to the bench, the drink he bought before in hand. He looks up with a small smile. "Told you I could help."

"Shut up," Jihoon says, though he's smiling. He tucks the pencil behind his ear, setting the music in place again. "Tell me if this sounds better."

But even before he finishes, Jihoon is certain that what he has works far better this time. He plays through to the end of the piece, and this time when the music stops, he finds himself smiling.

Mingyu claps his hands too exuberantly, and Jihoon laughs, turning around.

"That's really good," Mingyu says, his smile making the corners of his eyes crinkle. "Is that the whole thing?"

"Nah," Jihoon says, plucking the pencil from behind his ear and spinning it between his fingers. "That's about half of it. I can't figure the rest out yet."

Mingyu nods, taking a sip of his coke before holding the can out to Jihoon. He should scold Mingyu, or at least tell him that they aren't supposed to have drinks around the equipment, but instead, he just takes a generous swig himself before passing it back.

"Is this what you're working on all the time?" Mingyu asks, and he doesn't sound bothered or concerned like Jihoon is used to, merely curious.

"Sometimes. I spend a lot of time producing too, I guess, along with my other classes," Jihoon says, shrugging. Mingyu nods, sitting with his long legs tucked close to his chest. It's cute, but Jihoon does his best not to notice.

"Wonwoo-hyung said you're a workaholic," Mingyu says, and Jihoon scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"Like him and his novel have room to talk," Jihoon grumbles, and Mingyu laughs, nodding his head.

"That's true," he says. He pauses after, one of his canines digging into his lower lip. "I could come help again another time."

Jihoon knows that if he really needs help, it would probably be better to drag Seokmin or Seungkwan with him since the two of them are also music majors. But, that doesn't stop him from nodding his head at Mingyu's offer, a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, alright."

"Great," Mingyu smiles, pressing a hand to his stomach and pouting his lower lip out. "Can we eat yet?"

"There's a lounge upstairs," Jihoon says, chuckling as he stands, putting the music back into his bag. He tosses it over his shoulder, grabbing the food and rolling his eyes when Mingyu nearly trips in his haste to stand up, barely managing not to spill his soda everywhere.

Jihoon sighs, shaking his head and shutting the door behind the two of them, biting down on the smile that wants to take over his face.

**{* * *}**

Jihoon is considering the merits of kicking Mingyu out of the bed and onto the floor. It would be satisfying, especially since at the moment, Mingyu is happily ignoring the mixture of curses that Jihoon is mumbling against his ear.

But the truth of it is that Mingyu isn’t the reason that Jihoon is feeling so frustrated and worked up, though he’s not really helping the way Jihoon is hoping he would either. He’s kneeling on the bed, his knees to the side of Jihoon’s thigh and one hand slipped under Jihoon’s shirt, thumb rolling idly over one of Jihoon’s nipples. Before Jihoon really makes up his mind on kicking him or not, Mingyu laughs, his breath blowing against the side of Jihoon’s neck.

“Hyung, you said you wanted to relax,” he says, sitting up to look down at Jihoon. It doesn’t exactly help, since his hair is currently mussed and the smile on his face is a little loose and unfocused, his teeth digging into his lower lip. Jihoon is forced to realize that he’s become used to this kind of look on Mingyu’s face.

“I’ll relax if you hurry up,” Jihoon snaps, more aggressively than he really means to. He isn’t sure what started the urgent, burning feeling under his skin, but he’d rather be rid of it. Mingyu laughs again, his nose wrinkling before he presses gently on Jihoon’s shoulder, laying him on his back once more.

“Just let me take my time with you,” Mingyu says, his voice low and earnest. Jihoon means to glare at him for it, but it’s ruined by the little shiver that works its way down his back. Mingyu’s smile is smaller, softer, but still there. “Please? I want to.”

Jihoon would like to deny that Mingyu has any effect on him at all, but at the moment he would be lying. He looks away before nodding his head, his fingers curling into the sheets. “Fine.”

Mingyu nods his head slightly, leaning over Jihoon once more. His long limbs tend to feel like they’re caging Jihoon underneath him, and Jihoon bites the inside of his cheek. Mingyu leans down, kissing Jihoon again, and this time rather than pushing for more, Jihoon parts his lips with Mingyu.

He’s glad that Mingyu seems to have more in mind than kissing Jihoon until he explodes. Both of his hands tug Jihoon’s shirt up, and Jihoon arches his back off of the bed to help with removing it. Unlike how his clothes always stand out when tossed off in Mingyu’s tidy room, Jihoon’s shirt blends into the rest of the clutter of his room. Unfortunately, his pants don’t immediately follow. Instead, Mingyu is preoccupied with planting his mouth along the line of Jihoon’s neck. He doesn’t bite down, but his teeth do scrape against Jihoon’s jaw, and then along the tendon standing out from his throat.

Jihoon groans, biting down on his lip in a weak attempt to muffle it. He’s learned that the harder he tries to keep himself from making any embarrassing sounds, the more Mingyu tries to cause them. Mingyu nips the skin of his collarbone and Jihoon finds himself opening his mouth already to scold him to hurry up.

Patience has never exactly been Jihoon’s strong suit. Mingyu’s hand is once again resting on Jihoon’s chest but this time he’s anything but idle with his touch. His thumb circles around the hard bud of Jihoon’s nipple before lightly pinching it between two fingers. Jihoon whines, surprising even himself with the sound. His back lifts off the bed, pushing up toward Mingyu’s hand.

Mingyu sighs a breath out against Jihoon’s shoulder. His palm follows along the line of Jihoon’s side, thumb ducking under the waist of Jihoon’s jeans. He tugs them low enough to reveal the bones of Jihoon’s hips. Mingyu leverages himself up onto his knees, sliding one hand under Jihoon’s thigh to spread his legs.

He follows along the angle of Jihoon’s hipbone with his mouth, pausing before he reaches the top of Jihoon’s pants, digging his teeth into Jihoon’s hip. It’s shy enough of being hard enough to actually leave a mark, but Jihoon jolts his hips up, his fingers curling more tightly into the sheets, trying to ground himself. He can feel Mingyu’s mouth turn up into a grin against his skin before sliding his lips up further, biting down again. Jihoon whines, his head tilting back against the sheets.

Mingyu lifts himself again, pulling Jihoon’s jeans open with steady hands, looking up with a small grin, his fingers lingering on Jihoon’s zipper. Jihoon thinks about kicking him again for looking so smug. Before Jihoon scolds him, Mingyu tugs his pants down, ducking his head slightly to try and hide his smile.

One of Mingyu’s hand cups around Jihoon’s cock through his boxers, rubbing him slowly. Jihoon reaches, shoving his pillow off the bed, grabbing the small bottle of lube tucked underneath. It’s lighter than expected, and Jihoon is mortified at the thought of having to buy more in the future. Light as it is, it still makes a satisfying sound when it hits Mingyu in the middle of his forehead. Mingyu looks around for a moment like he’s not sure what hit him before grabbing the bottle.

He smiles, stroking his thumb in circles around the tip of Jihoon’s cock before tugging his boxers down as well. He sits up, lifting one of Jihoon’s knees over his shoulder, nuzzling the soft inside of his thigh. He pops open the cap of the bottle, spreading the thick gel over his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up.

“I fucking swear if you don’t—” Jihoon starts, cutting himself off with a soft gasp when Mingyu’s slick fingers slide over his hole. It’s harder to hold onto his temper when he’s spread out and naked while Mingyu hasn’t even taken off his shirt.

“You’re supposed to be relaxed, hyung. Do you want a massage instead?” Mingyu says, laughing just a little as he presses the first in slowly, squeezing Jihoon’s thigh.

Jihoon’s lips part in a snarl, but instead of lashing out he rolls his hops down, encouraging Mingyu’s finger to slide in further. Mingyu takes the hint, but he doesn’t move any faster either. He does continue with sliding his finger in deeper, holding Jihoon’s thighs open. Jihoon squirms against the bed, only getting more tense and restless. His head leans back further, breathing out a single hard breath. For all of Mingyu’s talk of relaxing, Jihoon isn’t feeling much of it.

Mingyu must realize it himself because he presses his finger in deeper, and when Jihoon sighs, he adds the second. When Jihoon looks down, there’s a little frown of focus in Mingyu’s brow, and after a few soft thrusts to give Jihoon time to adjust, he twists his wrist, crooking both of his fingers upward.

He misses Jihoon’s prostate in a way that has to be deliberate. Jihoon groans in frustration, shoving his hips up and reaching one hand down to dig his nails into the muscle of Mingyu’s shoulder. “God, would you just _please_ , Mingyu.”

This time Mingyu doesn’t laugh at him, at least. He presses his fingers up again, pressing the pads of his fingers there. Jihoon groans, digging his nails harder into Mingyu’s shoulder through the fabric of his shirt. Mingyu rubs his fingers back and forth slowly, leaning his cheek against Jihoon’s thigh. The sound that pushes out of Jihoon’s mouth falters, his voice cracking in the middle. His hips jerk sharply up, unaware if he’s trying to chase after the feeling or get away from it.

When Mingyu’s fingers pull back, spreading them apart, Jihoon’s shoulders drop back against the bed. Rather than gripping Mingyu’s shoulder, Jihoon’s fingers wrap loosely around the back of his neck, his breath coming out in short, sharp pants.

Mingyu pushes his fingers upward again, and Jihoon’s nails dig into the back of his neck. Mingyu makes a small sound, pressing it against Jihoon’s skin. When his fingers relax again, Jihoon whimpers weakly, his leg curling against Mingyu’s back. He’s starting to feel like he’s about to explode, the restless energy that led him to call Mingyu to begin with threatening to burst out of him in every direction. 

A third finger slides in slowly, but Jihoon barely registers the stretch of it. He grips the bed tighter, tugging at sheet until his knuckles turn white. Mingyu spreads his fingers, removing his hand from Jihoon’s thigh to prevent his hips from thrashing on the bed again. His fingers are tight around Jihoon’s hip, holding them there while his fingers slide all the way in to the last knuckle.

Jihoon’s next breath stutters on its way in, Mingyu’s fingers curling upward once again. He rubs them back and forth, the pressure relentless and making sparks shoot up his spine. The burn in the pit of his stomach feels like it’s spread through all of his limbs, and even the light hiss of breath Mingyu’s breath over his skin feels like too much. 

“Hyung, go ahead. Let go,” Mingyu says, his voice low. Jihoon shakes his head, though it’s not a disagreement. Mingyu’s fingers relax slightly, and he presses a light kiss against the inside of Jihoon’s thigh. He whines through his teeth, looking down at Mingyu, doing his best to force his eyes open.

Mingyu glances up in return, his lips parted and eyes dark. He curls his fingers again, and Jihoon can see his lips move but whatever it is that Mingyu says gets lost in the loud rush in Jihoon’s head.

He comes sharp and unexpected, his hips snapping up as much as possible with Mingyu’s hand holding his hips steady. He makes a mess over his stomach, sticky ropes of come spurting over his skin. Mingyu strokes his fingers more gently, working Jihoon through the orgasm until he falls back on the bed, chest heaving as he struggles to remember how to breathe.

Mingyu pulls his fingers out, carefully letting Jihoon’s leg down gently. For an uncharacteristically long moment, Mingyu says nothing at all. Jihoon manages to wrangle his breathing back to semi-normal, blinking his eyes open slowly. Mingyu gently detaches Jihoon’s hand from the back of his neck, pressing a small kiss to his palm before flopping onto the slim space remaining on the bed.

“Feel better?” Mingyu says, breezing a little laugh against Jihoon’s bare shoulder. Jihoon huffs, giving him a weak glare and smacking his shoulder.

“Shut up,” Jihoon says, pushing himself up with a roll of his eyes. He does his best to ignore the tacky mess on his stomach, reaching to pull Mingyu’s shirt over his head. “Lay down.”

Mingyu blinks at him, looking confused all over again even as he ducks his head to let Jihoon undress him. “Hyung, wait.”

“I said shut up,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes. He sits back on his thighs, leaning over and tugging Mingyu’s pants open, all of his movements fast and urgent. Jihoon shoves his hand into Mingyu’s jeans, and when his hand cups around the hard outline of his cock Mingyu makes a small, wounded sound.

He opens his mouth, apparently trying to argue again, and Jihoon leans over, kissing him to cut off the train of thought. He rubs his palm over Mingyu’s dick, thumb pressing the damp spot at the tip with his thumb. Mingyu groans into his mouth, leaning up on his elbows in an effort to chase after another kiss.

Jihoon bites lightly on Mingyu’s lower lip, pulling his hand back and shoving Mingyu’s pants and underwear down around his thighs. He pushes Mingyu back to the bed again, bending over and pressing his mouth to the head of Mingyu’s cock. Mingyu groans and Jihoon slides the tip into his mouth slowly. His tongue slides over the slit, pressing one hand on Mingyu’s hip to encourage him to stay still. 

He wraps his hand around the base of Mingyu’s cock, stroking what doesn’t fit in his mouth. He can feel Mingyu shifting, his back lifting off the bed before one of his hands finds its way into Jihoon’s hair. He doesn’t pull but instead lets the strands slide gently through his fingers, curling his hand at the back of Jihoon’s head. His thumb pets over the recently shaved hairs there, dipping toward the nape of his neck.

It seems strangely affectionate for someone getting his dick sucked, but Jihoon does his best not to dwell on it. He focuses instead on lowering his head more, the head of Mingyu’s cock pressing the inside of his cheek, rubbing his tongue along the shaft.

Mingyu groans again, his voice sounding strained. Jihoon lifts his head slightly, looking up with the head of Mingyu’s cock still in his mouth. He’s not exactly able to grin with his mouth occupied, but he does his best anyway. Mingyu’s mouth is hanging half open, a surprising flush on his cheeks. Mingyu’s fingers tighten slightly in Jihoon’s hair, just shy of tugging on it.

“Ah— Jihoon,” Mingyu says, his voice sounding strangled. “I’m close.”

Jihoon could stop what he’s doing to scold Mingyu for his manners, but instead, he lifts his head further, lapping at the tip of Mingyu’s cock, stroking it quickly. Mingyu’s back bows sharply, his thighs tensing under Jihoon’s hand as he comes.

He leans back quickly, nose wrinkling to try and avoid getting a face full of Mingyu’s come. Mingyu flops back to the bed, stretching his legs out and blinking up at Jihoon like he’s still figuring out what’s happened. Jihoon looks at his messy hand, and then down at his stomach with a sigh.

“Gross,” he says, swinging himself off the bed, grabbing a handful of tissues from the desk to wipe himself off. Mingyu laughs, rolling to the side and pulling his pants back up.

“Do you feel better?” He asks again, sitting up. Jihoon is strangely reluctant to nod his head, unwilling to give Mingyu the idea that he should spend more of his time tormenting him.

But he does nod because he doesn’t feel restless or frustrated anymore. Honestly, he’s ready to fall over in bed and pass out until he’s forced to get up in the morning for his lecture.

When he turns around, Mingyu has a smile on his face that can only be described as smug, and Jihoon huffs, throwing the wad of used tissues at his head. They fall short, and Mingyu laughs, sitting up and stretching his arms loosely over his head. He stands, then pauses, looking out the window with a little frown on his face.

“It started snowing again,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. Jihoon looks out the window as well, blinking in surprise. Rather than merely being dark and gloomy outside, there’s a curtain of white snow cascading past the window.

Jihoon doesn’t have to look at the clock to know it’s late. Late and probably freezing, and miserable with snow. He sighs, mostly to himself, turning and grabbing the shirt hanging off the foot of his bed, pulling it over his head.

It’s only after he has it on that he realizes it’s Mingyu’s, the neckline hanging off his shoulder and the hem hanging below his thighs. “Just stay here.”

Mingyu turns back toward him, shaking his head quickly. “I can just go home! It’s fine.”

“It’s snowing. Stay,” he says, waving his hand and tumbling onto the bed once again, kicking the soiled sheet off the end. “But no pants.”

Even though he nearly trips himself in taking them off, Mingyu manages to find his way into the bed without falling face first on the floor. Jihoon finds himself trapped between the wall and Mingyu’s back. He shakes his head slightly, reaching over him to flick off the light.

He leaves his arm draped over Mingyu’s waist, forehead against the bare skin of his back. Mingyu laughs, looking over his shoulder, his grin bright even in the dark room. “Hyung? Are you spooning me?”

“Do you wanna sleep on the floor?” He hisses back, though he shifts a little closer like he’s trying to prove that he _can_. Mingyu shakes his head, but he laughs again. He turns, laying facing Jihoon instead.

He opens his mouth to say something as Jihoon closes his eyes. Jihoon waits, expecting him to speak, cracking one eye open. “What?”

“Nothing,” Mingyu says, too quickly. Jihoon blinks his eyes open, raising both eyebrows.

“Really,” Mingyu says, smiling slowly once again. “It’s nothing.”

His arm comes to wrap around Jihoon’s back, fingers resting at the dip of his spine. He rubs the spot gently, pinching the soft fabric of the shirt between his fingers. Jihoon would complain, but it’s surprisingly comfortable being wrapped up in Mingyu’s too long limbs.

Jihoon leans his head forward slightly, tucking it under Mingyu’s chin and closing his eyes once more. One of his hands is curled against Mingyu’s shoulder, and Mingyu somehow manages to tangle their legs together before Jihoon finds himself falling asleep.


	4. thin line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thought is a troubling one, more than anything. More isn’t a concept on the table, at least not as far as Mingyu can tell. And if the past is any indication, staying detached isn’t Mingyu’s strong suit.
> 
> Mingyu scowls at himself, lifting his hand off of Jihoon’s back and rubbing his forehead. He remembers Wonwoo telling him once after a breakup, while they were still in high school, that Mingyu can’t tell a good idea from a bad one. This is the first time that Mingyu is starting to think he might actually be right.
> 
> There’s no answer to be had by glaring at Jihoon’s wall, and really, Mingyu isn’t sure what answer he actually wants.

“Alright, who’s turn is it to pick the move?” Seokmin asks, doing his best to step over the long legs of Mingyu and Minghao stretched out on the floor of his room. Soonyoung is perched on the bed, his legs crossed and one of Seokmin’s fluffy pillows hugged against his chest.

“Mine,” Minghao says, setting his phone down next to his hip. Mingyu shakes his head, leaning over to smack Minghao’s shoulder.

“You picked last time, and you picked something scary,” he says, leaning away when Minghao smacks him in return. Seokmin, leaning over his laptop, looks back at the two of them with a wide smile.

“I can pick if you two are just gonna fight about it,” he says, laughing. Mingyu crosses his arms over his chest, sulking.

“That makes it my turn,” he says, swatting the back of Seokmin’s thigh. “Move.”

Seokmin laughs again, stepping back and flopping across the bed next to Soonyoung. Soonyoung lets go of the pillow, tugging so Seokmin is laying across his lap. Mingyu shuffles his way forward, clicking through the options on the screen.

“Pick something that doesn’t suck,” Minghao says, looking down at his phone again. “No kids movies.”

“I like kids movies,” Soonyoung chimes in, his fingers in Seokmin’s hair. Seokmin looks up at him, shaking his head.

“You’re not making me watch Zootopia again,” he says, his voice getting close to a whine. Soonyoung reaches, grabbing the pillow once more to smack Seokmin with it. Seokmin laughs, grabbing it back and sitting up to hit Soonyoung in return.

Mingyu looks back in time to see Minghao roll his eyes. He looks up at the two of them now wrestling over control of the pillow. Mingyu takes the chance to pick out Finding Dory while the three of them are distracted. He flicks the lights off before sitting down again.

Minghao reaches back, slapping Soonyoung on the shin. “Ya! Quiet down. And don’t start making out.”

The two of them subside into muffled giggles and Minghao sighs, shaking his head. But Mingyu knows he isn’t as annoyed as he pretends to be because when Mingyu leans into his side as the movie starts, he only grumbles half-heartedly.

There’s definitely sounds that are suspiciously like kissing from the bed behind them before the movie is half over, and Mingyu does his best to tune it out. Minghao, however, seems to have a much harder time with it. He leans further into Mingyu, pulling the pillow out from under his butt, doing his best to hit them both with it.

“Knock it off or I’ll kick you both out,” Minghao snaps, craning his neck around. Seokmin blinks, grinning down at him.

“This is my room,” Seokmin says, chuckling. Minghao raises both his eyebrows, a challenging look on his face. Mingyu, for his part, has no doubt that Minghao can and will kick them both out into the hall and lock the door for good measure. It seems like Seokmin arrives at the same conclusion, because he looks back at the screen, tucking his arm around Soonyoung’s side.

Mingyu muffles a laugh, leaning into Minghao once he’s comfortable again. Minghao glances over, scowling for a second before leaning his cheek on Mingyu’s head. Mingyu smiles, nuzzling into Minghao as much as he can get away with.

He manages to even make it to the end of the movie without crying, which is a fact that Mingyu is fairly proud of. He detaches himself from Minghao’s side to turn the lights back on, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Soonyoung leans over the edge of the bed, a wide smile on his face. “Texting Jihoon-ah?”

“What? No!” Mingyu says, setting his phone down too fast. Soonyoung laughs, but Mingyu can feel the other two turn to stare at him. He ducks his head to hide the flush on his face. He _wasn’t_ even planning on sending Jihoon a message. Trying to hide is the wrong move because Minghao’s arm wraps around his neck, pulling him into a headlock.

“That was your big secret?” He says, squeezing Mingyu under his arm. 

Soonyoung blinks, his smile growing dimmer. “You didn’t know?”

“No,” Seokmin says, and Mingyu can hear him sulking. “He wouldn’t tell us!”

Minghao gives him another squeeze before letting Mingyu go. Mingyu rubs at the back of his neck with a sigh.

“It’s not a big deal,” he says, shooting Minghao a glare. “I remember someone saying they didn’t want to hear about my sex life.”

“I don’t want to hear about anyone’s sex life,” he shoots back, shrugging. “But you’re still supposed to tell us who you’re dating.”

“I’m not,” Mingyu says, trying to think of any possible way to change the subject.”

Seokmin and Minghao both stare at him in confusion before looking up at Soonyoung like that statement somehow needs interpretation.

“They’re fuck buddies,” Soonyoung says, rolling his eyes. Seokmin’s eyes go comically wide, staring at Mingyu.

“Him and Jihoon-hyung?” He says, covering his mouth with one hand.

“I definitely don’t want to hear about that,” Minghao says, looking down at his phone with a shake of his head.

“And you knew?” Seokmin says, looking over at Soonyoung. He shrugs, leaning his head against Seokmin.

“I mean it’s not like I walked in on them,” Soonyoung says, kissing Seokmin’s temple. “But I did see their dirty texts.”

“I didn’t send any dirty anything!” Mingyu says, his voice raising an octave higher than usual.

“There was a winky face,” Soonyoung says, his voice a dramatic whisper. Seokmin gasps and Mingyu can see the way Minghao is struggling to keep from laughing.

“I have no friends,” Mingyu says, rubbing his palm into his forehead. “None.”

“You’ve got Jihoon-ah,” Soonyoung says, laughing when Mingyu whips his head around with a glare.

“Since when do you sleep around, anyway?” Minghao asks, jabbing his elbow into Mingyu’s side.

“I’m not sleeping around,” Mingyu says, groaning. “I’m sleeping with one person.”

“For now,” Minghao says, the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. Mingyu huffs, kicking his knee gently, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Can we talk about something else?” He asks, looking over his shoulder at the two of them on the bed. “Anything else.”

“I bought a new shirt,” Soonyoung says, staring back at him with a grin. “And I found yours in Jihoon-ah’s room.”

Mingyu groans, flopping over on his side and squeezing his eyes shut. “I hate all of you.”

“How did you leave your shirt behind?” Seokmin asks, sounding like it’s some kind of genuine wonder. Mingyu keeps his eyes closed, hoping that if he plays dead long enough they’ll all lose interest in tormenting him.

“Anything else,” he says after the silence lingers several beats too long.

“This is more interesting than the movie was,” Minghao says, grinning wider. “How did you leave your fucking shirt behind? Wouldn’t you freeze?”

“He was wearing it and I had a hoodie,” Mingyu says, not yet lifting himself off of the floor. 

“Scandalous,” Seokmin says, his head once again in Soonyoung’s lap.

“I’m going home,” Mingyu says, picking himself up off of the floor with a groan. “And I’m never speaking to any of you again.”

“Promise?” Minghao asks, picking himself up again. Seokmin looks up like he’s about to argue with the two of them leaving, but Soonyoung leans over, kissing the center of his forehead.

“Later then,” Seokmin says, grinning and wiggling his fingers in a wave. Mingyu laughs, pulling his shoes on. Minghao does the same, grabbing his coat from the pile in the corner, handing Mingyu his coat as well.

When the door shuts behind them, Mingyu catches Minghao grinning at him, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Please tell me we don’t have to keep talking about this,” Mingyu says, sighing out hard. “You don’t even want to hear about this.”

“I don’t want any gory details,” Minghao says, shrugging before looking ahead again. “I’m surprised you managed to keep it to yourself for…?”

“I dunno, like two months?” He says, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to think back. “Probably a little less?”

“You’ve been screwing around with him for two months?” Minghao asks, lifting both of his eyebrows. “You know that’s weird, right?”

“Why is that weird?” Mingyu says, dangerously close to whining again. He probably should try to avoid it, since Minghao is more likely than anyone to jump on him for it.

“It’s weird because I can’t remember you having a relationship more casual than soulmate seeking,” Minghao says, his smirk going wider when Mingyu looks away with a flush.

“That’s not true,” he says, voice dropping to a grumble.

“Before the semester started you were talking about moving in with that one guy,” Minghao says, pausing and tilting his head back. “What was his name?”

“Siwan-ah,” Mingyu says, avoiding looking over at Minghao when he answers. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, looking down at his shoes with a frown. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You were dating him for like six months,” Minghao says, unrelenting as always.

“I get it,” Mingyu says, shaking his head. “But this isn’t like that! It’s just a casual thing.”

“You are the least casual person I’ve ever met,” Minghao says, shaking his head with a laugh. Mingyu huffs, looking at the cloud of vapor that falls out of his mouth with a frown.

“It’s not a big deal,” he grumbles, probably for the tenth time. Minghao reaches over, patting his shoulder hard enough that Mingyu tries to step away.

“I’m not telling you where you should be sticking your… whatever. I’m just saying you should think about it,” he says, shrugging once more. “And please, please don’t tell me anything else about this situation because I do not want to know.”

Mingyu laughs, holding his hands up and shaking his head. “I didn’t bring it up, to begin with!”

Minghao laughs, bumping their shoulders together. “Get coffee with me.”

“Are you gonna be mean to me the whole time?” Mingyu gripes, leaning back into him.

“I absolutely will,” Minghao says, nodding his head. “And I expect you to make my coffee because you’re better at it.”

**{* * *}**

Mingyu always feels slightly awkward, standing outside Jihoon’s door and waiting for him to answer. He shuffles his feet, staring down at them rather than looking at the door.

When it swings open, Mingyu is surprised by the sight of Jihoon. Not, of course, because he was expecting to see anybody else, but because he looks like he’s spent the past week sustained by nothing but coffee. There are dark circles under his eyes and when he releases the door frame he sways slightly like he can quite stand under his own power.

“In,” he says, his voice raspy and sharp. He steps out of the way, and Mingyu wants to reach out to prevent him from falling. He lays one hand on Jihoon’s shoulder as he steps through the door, pushing it shut behind him.

“Bed,” Jihoon says, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. “Hurry up.”

“You look worn out, hyung,” Mingyu says, wrapping his arms around Jihoon’s waist rather than doing as he’s told. He rests his chin against Jihoon’s head. “Shouldn’t you get some rest?”

“Shut up,” Jihoon says, though he doesn’t try to free himself from Mingyu’s grasp. “I didn’t tell you to come over so you can lecture me.”

“I’m not,” Mingyu says, squeezing his arms around Jihoon’s sides. “We can take a nap together.”

“Why in the world would I want to do that?” Jihoon says, snapping as he pushes his way free. “Just—bed.”

He points at the bed even as a yawn splits his face. Mingyu laughs, stepping forward and pulling Jihoon into bed with him. “Hyung, I’m pretty sure you’re going to pass out before we get anywhere.”

“I just need,” he starts, gesturing at Mingyu before trailing off. Mingyu rolls his eyes, pulling Jihoon to lay across his chest.

“You need sleep,” Mingyu says, pulling his phone out of his pocket, fiddling until he has an alarm set. Jihoon grumbles, his face squished into Mingyu’s chest.

“Pants?” Mingyu asks, pulling his jacket off and tossing it to hang over the back of Jihoon’s chair.

“Off,” Jihoon says, his eyes only half open. Mingyu nods, shedding his own before helping Jihoon wiggle his off as well. Jihoon nods, rolling toward the wall. “Music.”

“Music?” He repeats, picking up Jihoon’s phone. Jihoon nods, lifting his head.

“Helps me sleep,” Jihoon says, his fingers grasping Mingyu’s shirt lightly. “There’s a playlist.”

“Got it,” he says, starting the music and setting the phone to the side.

“Alright, sleep,” he says, laying down with a small smile. Jihoon says something that falls short of real words and Mingyu shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Jihoon’s back.

It’s a small surprise when Jihoon wiggles his way closer, his hands curl up against Mingyu’s chest. His head ends up tucked under Mingyu’s chin, breathing out softly against the side of his neck. Mingyu shuts his eyes, tangling his fingers in the back of Jihoon’s shirt. It’s easy to tell when Jihoon falls asleep, his jaw going a little slack, his breathing slow and even.

Mingyu finds himself smiling, opening his eyes just slightly to peek down at Jihoon. It isn’t often he gets to see him looking so relaxed. Even post-coital Jihoon still manages to look tense and sharp. Now it makes Mingyu wonder when the last time he actually got some rest was.

Rubbing his knuckles along Jihoon’s back, Mingyu can feel the bumps of his spine. In spite of the fact that Mingyu wasn’t very sleepy, to begin with, drifting off with Jihoon tucked against this chest is a tempting offer. It occurs to Mingyu that this doesn’t exactly fall into the guidelines of the relationship he has with Jihoon. There haven’t been many exceptions, short of Jihoon letting him stay to hide out from the shitty weather, but this feels like something different.

It would make Mingyu hopeful, maybe, if he knew what he was hoping for. Despite his history with dating, he’s been happy with whatever he has with Jihoon so far. But, it would still be a lie to say he hasn’t found himself thinking about more.

He’s pretty sure that Minghao is to blame for that, on top of Seokmin and Soonyoung, for prodding him so much about it the other night. It’s since then that Mingyu’s mind keeps creeping back to the idea of _Jihoon_ and _more_ in conjunction with each other.

With a frown, Mingyu opens his eyes, staring at the wall. This isn’t the best time to be thinking about all of this. He tries to distract himself, leaning his head back and listening to the quiet music playing from Jihoon’s phone. The song is soft piano with singing in what Mingyu thinks must be English. It’s harder to focus on than Mingyu expects, and Jihoon shifts slightly, his hair tickling Mingyu’s chin.

Which is all it takes to get Mingyu dwelling again, unable to ignore Jihoon and his own tangled up thoughts. Jihoon said at the start that he didn’t have time to date, and Mingyu has started to realize exactly how hectic his life gets. But the more the subject creeps to the front of Mingyu’s mind, the more he starts to realize he doesn’t mind the idea of there being more between him and Jihoon.

The thought is a troubling one, more than anything. More isn’t a concept on the table, at least not as far as Mingyu can tell. And if the past is any indication, staying detached isn’t Mingyu’s strong suit.

Mingyu scowls at himself, lifting his hand off of Jihoon’s back and rubbing his forehead. He remembers Wonwoo telling him once after a breakup, while they were still in high school, that Mingyu can’t tell a good idea from a bad one. This is the first time that Mingyu is starting to think he might actually be right.

There’s no answer to be had by glaring at Jihoon’s wall, and really, Mingyu isn’t sure what answer he actually wants. He shuts his eyes again, squeezing Jihoon slightly closer to him. He sighs, his breath ruffling the top of Jihoon’s hair. He finds himself starting to drift, one hand still idly rubbing at Jihoon’s back.

He’s not sure how long he actually falls asleep for, but he wakes up to Jihoon sitting up, rubbing blearily at his eyes, reaching for Mingyu’s loudly ringing phone. Mingyu leans back, looking up at Jihoon with a small frown. “Why are you climbing on me?”

“Alarm. Loud,” Jihoon says, staring at it in confusion before dropping it on Mingyu’s chest. “Make it stop.”

Mingyu chuckles, turning the alarm off, his hand resting on the small of Jihoon’s back. Jihoon looks down at him, flopping on the bed next to him once more. He sighs, staring at the ceiling and rubbing at his eyes once again.

“Are you ready to use full sentences?” Mingyu asks, laughing as Jihoon hides his face, shrugging.

“If I have to,” he grumbles, nuzzling into the space between Mingyu’s neck and his shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Like, 6,” Mingyu says, looking down at his phone. He hesitates before petting the back of Jihoon’s head. “Do you feel better?”

“I hate naps,” he says, his voice muffled.

“Well you could always go back to sleep,” Mingyu says, his fingers resting on the back of Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon shakes his head again, sighing.

“I can’t,” he grumbles, sitting up and shaking his head, pushing his fingers back through his hair. “I have work to do.”

“You always have work to do,” Mingyu says, letting his hand fall down to the bed. “Want me to get out?”

Jihoon looks down at him for a moment before shrugging, leaning over and grabbing his laptop off the desk. “Nah, you can stay if you want.”

Mingyu pauses, letting the answer sink in. It’s not what he was expecting to hear. Jihoon cuddles himself into the corner, stuffing a pillow behind his back before opening his computer. Mingyu sits up, stretching his arms over his head with a short groan.

He didn’t think to drag his own bag along, which means he’s left awkwardly fiddling with his phone while Jihoon works. Jihoon doesn’t seem bothered, his lips slightly parted as he works, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth.

It’s cute, and Mingyu finds himself looking over with a grin. “Working on your debut album?”

Jihoon looks down at him, the corners of his lips lifting into a slight grin. “Something like that.”

“Spring showcase?” He asks, and Jihoon nods.

“This is going better than the piano piece, at least,” Jihoon says, running his fingers back through his hair, letting his bangs fan out over his forehead.

“Can I hear some of it?” Mingyu asks, poking at Jihoon’s hip. Jihoon looks down at him with a blink.

“Sure,” he says, clicking several times before music starts playing. Mingyu leans in closer, tilting his head slightly like it might help him hear better. The music surprises Mingyu, and he takes a quick glance up at Jihoon to make sure he didn’t pick the wrong track on accident.

But Jihoon doesn’t seem to be confused by what’s playing. His lips are moving slightly along with the words, and after a moment, Mingyu recognizes Seokmin’s voice. Mingyu isn’t sure he wouldn’t have thought the song was a professional one if he hadn’t asked Jihoon to play it for him. He looks up at Jihoon with a grin.

“You wrote this?” He asks, patting Jihoon’s thigh. “That’s Seokminnie, right?”

“I had him and Seungkwan help with most of it,” he says, looking down at Mingyu with a small shrug. “At least for the singing.”

“Most of it?” Mingyu asks, raising both of his eyebrows. “You don’t sing?”

“Just for one song,” Jihoon says, a slight frown on his face. “I’m not as good as the two of them.”

“Is anyone?” He asks, nodding at the screen. “I wanna hear you sing, though.”

“It’s just the guide, really,” Jihoon says, shaking his head. “I haven’t even done a real recording yet.”

“Then just sing it,” Mingyu says, prodding at Jihoon’s ribs. “You can do that, right?”

“No,” Jihoon says, slapping Mingyu’s hand away with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not just gonna sing for no reason.”

“Sing for me,” Mingyu whines, shoving his head into Jihoon’s lap. Jihoon looks down at him with a glare, flicking the middle of Mingyu’s forehead.

“No,” Jihoon repeats, trying weakly to push him away. “No singing.”

“Don’t be mean,” Mingyu says, sulking. “Play me the song then.”

Jihoon scowls at him for a moment before sighing, clicking on a different song. Mingyu falls quiet, listening to the quiet opening strains of the music, his head still pillowed on Jihoon’s thigh. Jihoon’s voice comes in after a few measures, low and tentative at first like he’s not quite sure of the words.

Mingyu glances up, a smile starting on his face as Jihoon’s voice lifts in strength,m growing as the music picks up as well. There’s a small, proud smile starting on Jihoon’s face as he listens to the music and Mingyu lays his head down, enjoying the silent glow that settles over his features.

“Your voice is really nice,” Mingyu says once the song finishes, grinning as Jihoon looks down at him. “Easily just as nice as Seokmin.”

“Liar,” Jihoon snaps, his smile fading. Mingyu shakes his head, sitting up too quickly and nearly smashing his forehead into Jihoon’s chin.

“No! I mean it, hyung,” he says, grabbing Jihoon’s shoulders. “It was really nice.”

“It’s barely anything, don’t be dramatic,” Jihoon says, but in spite of him rolling his eyes, Mingyu can see the pleased flush on his cheeks.

“Did you do that all yourself?” He asks, dropping his hands.

“Pretty much,” Jihoon says, shrugging. “Sometimes I get Shua-hyung to help with the guitar, but I did all the writing and mixing and stuff.”

“Jeez,” Mingyu says, chuckling as he rubs the back of his neck. “All I do is make brochures and stuff.”

“That’s what you get for picking a boring major,” Jihoon says, a grin on his face. “I bet your parents are happy about it, even.”

“Aren’t yours?” Mingyu asks, cocking his head to the side. “You’re really good with all of this music stuff.”

“Not exactly,” Jihoon says, his grin fading into a more bitter smile. “It didn’t make me very popular at home.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, looking down at his lap. “Sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jihoon says, though he fails to meet Mingyu’s eyes. Mingyu hesitates for a beat before throwing himself at Jihoon, arms wrapping around his sides. He knocks Jihoon to the mattress, pinning him there.

“What are you doing?” Jihoon asks, his voice muffled.

“I’m giving you a hug,” Mingyu says, nuzzling Jihoon’s cheek.

“Stop doing it before I bite you,” Jihoon says, shoving at Mingyu’s shoulder. With a laugh, Mingyu sits up, unwrapping his arms from Jihoon. He looks down at his phone, sighing at the time.

“I have to get to work,” he says, sliding the phone into his pocket.

“Right,” Jihoon says, looking back at his screen. For a moment, Mingyu figures that will be pretty much the end of it. But, before he’s finished with putting his shoes on, Jihoon looks over at him with a shake of his head. “Thanks.”

Mingyu considers trying to find out what exactly Jihoon is thanking him for, but he decides against it, letting himself out with a wave and a wide grin.

**{* * *}**

“So, is this like a date?” Mingyu asks, leaning over the bench to tie the skate onto his foot, looking up at Jihoon, tilting his head to the side.

Jihoon stares back at him for a moment, frowning. “What?”

“For Jeonghan and Seungcheol, I mean,” Mingyu says, grinning when Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Unless you’re trying to take me out.”

“Not anywhere close,” he says, frowning. Mingyu’s grin only gets wider, looking at the ice skates tied onto his feet. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him, knocking his toes together. “Jeonghan didn’t actually ask him out, though. No.”

“Do you think he’s gonna?” Mingyu asks, leaning in further. He sets his foot on the ground again, balancing uncertainly on the blades. “Or maybe he’ll try and kiss him?”

“Jeonghan-hyung’s not that brave,” Jihoon says, laughing as he stands. He looks more comfortable than Mingyu feels. “And I don’t think Seungcheol-hyung has any idea what all this is about.”

“You might be right on that one,” Mingyu says, shuffling his way toward the door. “They’re already here?”

“Said so,” Jihoon says, shrugging and shoving Mingyu ahead of him. Mingyu stumbles over the doorway, almost falling flat on his face, and Jihoon laughs loudly behind him.

“I thought you said you could skate.”

“I can!” Mingyu says, reaching his arm out to steady himself. “I just don’t like walking around like this.”

“Ridiculous,” Jihoon says, ducking under Mingyu’s arm and stepping out onto the ice, nodding his head when Jeonghan turns and waves at the both of them. He has a beanie pulled over his hair that Mingyu is fairly sure he recognizes belonging to Seungcheol. He’s on the ice a few feet away from Jeonghan, eyes wide, one hand reaching out toward the wall, his legs shaking under him.

Jeonghan looks over his shoulder, grinning and holding one gloved hand out toward Seungcheol. “Cheollie! It’s not that hard.”

“Easy for you to say,” Seungcheol says, taking Jeonghan’s hand with a frown. The smile on Jeonghan’s face only gets wider, pulling Seungcheol toward him gently.

It makes Mingyu feel a little better for how unsteady his legs feel when he steps out onto the ice. Not quite enough to make him fall, but he does reach one hand forward to grasp Jihoon’s shoulder. Jihoon looks back at him, a smirk on his face. “Not you too. I’m not holding your hand.”

“That’s not nice, hyung,” Mingyu says, though he releases Jihoon’s shoulder with a smile. Jihoon grins back at him, shaking his head.

“How exactly did Jeonghan-hyung talk you into this, anyway?” Jihoon asks, skating a few feet ahead. Jeonghan laughs, still tugging Seungcheol along with him, holding onto both of his hands. 

“I asked very nicely if he wanted to spend time with us,” Jeonghan says, looking over his shoulder at Jihoon. Jihoon rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“Why didn’t you ask me nicely?” Seungcheol says, his grip on Jeonghan’s hands tightening as he takes a tentative stride forward.

“Because if I ask you nicely then you won’t come,” Jeonghan chirps, winking at him. Seungcheol ducks his head, watching his feet shuffle awkwardly across the ice.

“There’s a reason for that,” he says, glancing up and catching Jeonghan’s eyes. Mingyu can’t help but find it cute, the way Jeonghan’s sharp smile melts into something more soft and encouraging.

“You’re doing fine,” he says, squeezing Seungcheol’s hands. “Just do it like I showed you.”

Seungcheol looks down at his feet again, moving with a little more confidence. Mingyu has a hard time wiping the grin off of his own face, and Jihoon rolls his eyes.

“Gross,” he grumbles, low enough that only Mingyu can hear him. Mingyu laughs, catching up to Jihoon easily now that he’s found his balance.

“You’re not very romantic, are you Jihoon-hyung?” Mingyu asks, tugging gently on the sleeve of Jihoon’s sweater. The four of them aren’t the only ones out on the rink, and busy guiding Seungcheol along, Jeonghan quickly falls behind.

“Why should I be?” Jihoon says, shaking his head. “All the flowers and chocolate and stupid dates? It’s annoying.”

“It doesn’t all have to be like that,” Mingyu says, shrugging. He’s not sure what exactly compels him to keep talking. “It’s more like… doing things that you think might make the other person happy.”

“Like dragging them out ice skating?” Jihoon asks, huffing. Mingyu laughs at that, shrugging.

“Are you not having fun, hyung?” He asks, draping his arm carefully over Jihoon’s shoulders. Jihoon gives him a sour look in return.

“I’d rather not be Jeonghan’s cover story,” he says, shaking Mingyu off of him. “It just encourages him to keep doing this.”

“Why come, then?” Mingyu asks, his grin only getting wider. Jihoon turns to glare at him but almost loses his footing in the process. Mingyu’s hand shoots out, catching Jihoon by the elbow and managing to right him, rather than knock the both of them over.

“Because Jeonghan-hyung holds grudges,” Jihoon says once he’s sure of his balance again. Mingyu for a moment, finds himself fighting the urge to lace his fingers together with Jihoon’s. He drapes his hand before it gets the better of him, rubbing his neck instead.

“So, you don’t like dates like this?” He asks, hoping the nerves aren’t plain in his voice. He knows, of course, that he isn’t on a date with Jihoon, but he still can’t stop the question from coming out. But Jihoon isn’t so quick to shoot it down. He seems to think it over for a beat.

“Don’t know,” he says after a moment passes. “I guess I’d rather it be easier to talk.”

“What if we got ice cream after?” Mingyu asks, not realizing what he’s said until it’s too late. Jihoon gives him an odd look and internally Mingyu withers.

“It’s too cold for something like that,” he says, and Mingyu nearly sighs in relief.

“I guess,” he agrees if only to stop himself from another embarrassing mistake. He glances down at Jihoon guiltily, his fingers twitching with the nervous desire to reach out and touch Jihoon.

He’s saved from himself by Jeonghan’s loud laughter from behind them. He turns to look, grinning himself when he sees Seungcheol sitting on the ice, face red, staring up at Jeonghan. Jihoon turns more slowly, coming to a stop in order to keep himself from falling over as he laughs.

“You said you weren’t gonna let go,” Seungcheol says, holding his hands out for Jeonghan to pull him up. Jeonghan continues laughing, shaking his head.

“I thought you had it,” he says, grabbing Seungcheol’s hands and pulling him up carefully. He reaches around, brushing the ice off of Seungcheol’s ass. They hover like that for a moment, faces close together, hands linked, and Mingyu hopes that Jeonghan will close the tiny remaining gap and just kiss Seungcheol. He doesn’t, of course, Jeonghan flushes pink and looks away, dropping his hands.

“You were doing fine,” he says, voice a little softer. “I’ll keep you up this time, I promise.”

“You’d better,” Seungcheol grumbles, looking over at Mingyu. “Why don’t you suck at this? You can barely walk right!”

“I’ve been skating before,” he says, laughing. He neglects to mention the reason he’s got so much practice is from dating a hockey player his first year. It doesn’t make much a difference to anyone else, he figures. “It’s not so hard.”

Seungcheol glares at him. “None of you are any help.”

“Don’t blame me,” Jihoon says, watching him stride forward a few gawky steps. “I’m not the one who talked you into going.”

“You didn’t talk me out of it either,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re not off the hook, Ji.”

Jihoon shrugs at that, laughing to himself and looking up at Mingyu. “This is why I’m not into dating.”

“I don’t think he knows he’s on a date,” Mingyu says, his voice low, his grin getting wider.

“Someone should take pity and tell him,” Jihoon says, looking over his shoulder at Jeonghan and Seungcheol, rolling his eyes. “Probably the person trying to date him.”

Mingyu laughs at that, shrugging but nodding his head. “Probably.”

“Do you think he’ll make a move before Christmas?” He asks. Jihoon smirks, shaking his head.

“Joshua-hyung and I have been betting on that for two years,” Jihoon says, his smirk getting bigger. “You can bet too; I’d be glad to take your money too.”

“Does Joshua-hyung always take Jeonghan’s side?”

“Every time he has a side to take,” Jihoon says, laughing. “He’s not allowed to do anything else.”

“So not by Christmas then?” Mingyu says, laughing. “I shouldn’t be planning a party then?”

“No, but you can come to Soonyoung’s,” Jihoon says, glancing up with a shrug. “That’ll be fun.”

“Are you going?” Mingyu asks, biting the inside of his cheek. Jihoon nods, sighing out hard.

“I’m not allowed to skip it,” he says, rolling his eyes. “This one is just two dozen of his closest friends, so it isn’t as bad as usual.”

“Just the inner circle then,” Mingyu says, chuckling to himself. “What are your plans, hyung?”

“None. I’ll just be here,” Jihoon says, licking his lower lip. “Going home is too expensive and I have too much work to do.”

“So… you’re just gonna be here alone for two weeks?” Mingyu says, skidding to a stop. “For Christmas?”

“By myself, for two weeks, no Christmas,” Jihoon says, nodding his head. “It’s basically paradise.”

“That’s sad!” Mingyu says, gripping Jihoon’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t be by yourself that whole time.”

“I’m thrilled to be by myself for two weeks,” Jihoon says, shaking his head. “No Soonyoung to yell at me to take a break, no Jeonghan-hyung trying to bring me on dates.”

“But it’s Christmas,” Mingyu says, sulking. “It’s special.”

“You’re in people’s way,” Jihoon says, but he’s still smiling.

“You know I’m not too far from here,” Mingyu says, finally letting Jihoon go. “You can call if you get lonely.”

Jihoon’s head tilts to the side like he’s evaluating Mingyu before he smiles a little further, pushing Mingyu ahead of him. “Maybe.”

Mingyu grins, feeling like he’s won something there. The glow lasts half a turn around the rink before there’s a surprised shout from behind the two of them.

He turns again, looking over his shoulder and blinking in surprise at Jeonghan sitting flat on the ice, gripping his ankle with a grimace on his face. Seungcheol stops just behind him, bending over and holding onto Jeonghan’s shoulder.

“Are you okay, Jeonghan-hyung?” Mingyu asks, skating over. Jihoon following after him. Jeonghan looks up, holding his ankle and shaking his head.

“Twisted it,” he says, grabbing Seungcheol’s hand to try and pull himself up. He rocks unsteadily on his leg, holding tightly onto Seungcheol’s arm. Mingyu reaches, holding onto his other arm to help him balance. He glances over to see Seungcheol chewing nervously on his lower lip.

Jeonghan looks at him as well, a tight smile on his face. “It’s fine, Cheollie. I just rolled it a little.”

“I’ll help you get home,” Seungcheol says, holding Jeonghan up as they step off the ice. Mingyu lets go of his arm, wondering if he should go along and help. Next to him, Jeonghan sighs, shaking his head.

“I don’t think he planned on ending things like that,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You said something about ice cream?”

“You wanna go?” Mingyu asks, his face lighting up. Jihoon shrugs his shoulders, looking up with half a smile.

“Whatever. Why not?” He says, laughing as he steps off the ice, Mingyu trailing behind him.

The both of them take off their skates and turn them in to the rental counter. Jihoon pauses in putting his coat on, looking at the piles of snow outside.

“Is it too late to change my mind?”

“It’s not even snowing, hyung!” He says, throwing his arm over Jihoon’s shoulders and pulling him closer.

“I don’t have the emotional strength to trod through four billion tons of white bullshit,” Jihoon says, shaking his head. “Especially not just to get ice cream.”

Mingyu frowns, looking out at the snow. Jihoon shrugs his arm off, and for a minute, Mingyu thinks he’s going to leave. Instead, Jihoon pulls on the back of his shirt, a grin on his face.

“Lean down here,” he says, tugging until Mingyu complies. Mingyu tries to look over his shoulder but almost gets head-butted when Jihoon leaps onto his back, legs latching around his waist.

Mingyu yelps, stumbling a few steps forward under the unexpected weight. Jihoon’s hands hook around his shoulders, fingers digging hard into the muscle while Mingyu regains his balance. He looks over his shoulder, trying to see Jihoon’s face but not quite managing because of the angle.

“Hyung! Really?” He whines, his hands on Jihoon’s thighs to hold him up.

“Yes. Carry me there,” Jihoon says, leaning his chin on top of Mingyu’s head. “You suggested ice cream.”

Mingyu sighs, adjusting his grip until he’s sure Jihoon isn’t at risk for falling off of his back before walking outside. Jihoon laughs, rolling his chin over the top of Mingyu’s head, squeezing his shoulders.

“This was a good idea,” he says, bouncing slightly with the rhythm of Mingyu trudging his way through the snow. Mingyu finds himself laughing, shaking his head.

“I’m not doing this again,” Mingyu says, sizing up the doorway to the convenience store, trying to judge if he can fit through it with Jihoon attached to his back. “Duck.”

Jihoon laughs, ducking his head down against Mingyu’s shoulder and pushing the door open, his arm wrapping around Mingyu’s neck to keep his balance. 

He slides off Mingyu’s back once they’re inside, dropping lightly to his feet. Mingyu laughs, turning around and shaking his head. “I’m not your steed, Jihoon-hyung.”

“You can be my mule,” Jihoon says, smirking and patting Mingyu’s back as he walks by. “Ice cream?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, sighing as he follows after Jihoon. He doesn’t really mind it as much as he might pretend to. Jihoon is hardly very heavy, and it wasn’t exactly a long walk.

“Do you think Jeonghan-hyung is okay?” He asks, looking down at the cooler holding the ice cream. Jihoon nods his head, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. It’s a small habit that he has while thinking and it makes Mingyu smile.

Without thinking, he reaches out, stroking Jihoon’s bangs away from his face. Jihoon blinks, his head darting back in surprise, looking up at Mingyu with a furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Your hair is messy,” Mingyu says, rolling his eyes and continuing to fix it. “Pick what you want.”

“I can buy my own ice cream,” Jihoon says, going back to staring at the case.

“I asked you to come, so I’ll pay,” Mingyu says, putting his hand back to his side and looking over with a smile. He pulls the case open, reaching in to grab out something for himself. Jihoon rolls his eyes but does the same, passing it over to Mingyu.

“This is childish, you know,” he says, laughing as he follows Mingyu up to the counter. “And it’s cold.”

“I like having ice cream when it’s cold,” he says, shaking his head. “You come in and order iced Americano all the time!”

“Different,” Jihoon says, waving his hand. “Espresso doesn’t count.”

“There’s no difference!” Mingyu says, pulling out his wallet as the cashier rings them out. “It’s cold food.”

Jihoon takes the ice cream with a small huff through his teeth, peeling the wrapper off his ice cream with a shake of his head. “It’s different.”

He looks up at Mingyu with a grin before darting his tongue out to lick at his ice cream.

“Do you need me to carry you home too?” He says, opening his ice cream with a sigh. Jihoon looks up, his grin growing a little bit wider.

“If I say yes will you do it?” Jihoon asks one hand in his pocket.

“No,” Mingyu says, his voice flat. Jihoon laughs, bumping his elbow against Mingyu’s ribs and shaking his head.

“Well fine. I guess I’ll walk back without any help from my mule.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes, biting down on his lip to keep from smiling. He almost reconsiders and offers to carry Jihoon back to his room, but Jihoon waves before trudging down the beaten path back toward his room by himself.

**{* * *}**

“Hey,” Wonwoo says, barely looking up from his notes as Mingyu shuts the door behind him. His voice is low and gravelly, and after kicking his shoes off, Mingyu nearly sprints over to the couch.

“You’re not getting sick, are you?” He asks, pressing his palm to Wonwoo’s forehead. Wonwoo rolls his eyes, pushing Mingyu’s hand away.

“I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve been dressing warmly enough. I was taking a nap.”

“Good,” Mingyu says, flopping onto the couch. He undoubtedly smells like sweat and sex and his skin feels sticky like he desperately needs a shower. Wonwoo must notice because he wrinkles his nose before looking over.

“Good date?” He asks his mouth a flat line. Mingyu blinks, the back of his neck feeling hot.

“Date?”

“You were with Jihoon-ah, right?” He says, one eyebrow lifting curiously. “It’s good, we thought he was gonna be single forever.”

“He is,” Mingyu says, looking away before laughing. “Well, I don’t know know about forever, but he is right now.”

“What?” He asks, blinking his eyes slowly like he’s confused by what Mingyu is saying.

“We’re not dating,” he says, looking down at his phone to avoid Wonwoo’s stare. He lasts until he hears Wonwoo’s annoyed huff. Mingyu lifts his head, feeling a little like a dog caught with his nose in the trash.

“So you’re just…?” Wonwoo says, trailing off and letting the question hang in the air. Mingyu shrugs, resisting the urge to look away again. There’s nothing for him to feel guilty about—it’s not as if and Jihoon are doing anything wrong.

But still, the stare Wonwoo levels at the side of his head certainly makes him feel like he’s in trouble. “It’s just not anything serious.”

“Because you’re so good at that,” Wonwoo says, the corners of his lips lifting into a grin. Mingyu would be happier to see it if it wasn’t at his expense. He wrestles a pillow from behind him, hitting Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“Hyung, I’m serious. It’s no big deal,” he says, still whining. Wonwoo’s smile only grows, though he tries to pull the pillow out of Mingyu’s hands.

“I’m sure it’s not. You just spend all your time with him doing nothing serious,” Wonwoo says, adjusting his glasses. “It doesn’t seem very casual to me.”

“Jihoon-hyung doesn’t want to date anyone,” Mingyu says, frowning. He releases the pillow, wondering why saying so makes him feel so strangely defensive. “So we’re not dating.”

The look on Wonwoo’s face is close to being pitying, and Mingyu frowns harder, standing up and shaking his head.

“I need a shower.”

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Wonwoo says, leaning one arm on the back of the couch, watching Mingyu walk toward the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, though the word only feels like a half-truth in his mouth. He does his best to smile, to cover it up, even though lying to Wonwoo always makes him feel terrible, even when he doesn’t mean to. “We’re just having a good time.”

“If that’s what you want,” Wonwoo says. “I just didn’t figure you _or_ Jihoon-ah for the type.”

“You don’t have to start critiquing my taste again,” Mingyu grumbles, pausing behind the couch and shaking his head.

“I’m not. Jihoon-ah is my friend,” Wonwoo says, the deep smile lines on his face on full display. “Which means he’s far better than your usual choices.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Mingyu asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Wonwoo seems surprised by the response, his smile weakening.

“I’m not saying there is one,” he says, his brow furrowing at Mingyu’s frustrated look. “Just… it seems like the two of you are doing everything short of calling it what it really is.”

“He’s not looking for anything more and neither am I,” Mingyu says, shaking his head and walking into their bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He’s still not really sure he’s telling the truth about that, but it’s hard not to wish that people would stop asking, at this point.

He pulls off his shirt, frowning at the mirror. It’s a bigger question than Mingyu wants to handle, but it seems like he’s fast approaching the point where he can’t avoid it any longer.

But Wonwoo isn’t wrong in saying that ‘casual’ has never been Mingyu’s area of expertise, and Mingyu knows that the longer things continue with Jihoon the more likely he is to get attached, or more attached than he’s supposed to be, at least. It doesn’t seem like such a bad idea—spending his time with Jihoon. Which, according to Wonwoo, probably means that it’s a terrible idea.

Mingyu still climbs into the shower with a smile on his face.


	5. overdose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon hangs up the phone, dropping it onto the bed next to him. He spends a moment staring up at his ceiling, wondering if he’s doing at all the right thing.
> 
> He’s not sure when everything became such a mess surrounding his relationship with Mingyu, especially since a mess was exactly what Jihoon was trying to avoid. Things with Mingyu were supposed to be easy— just sex with someone who wasn’t a chore to spend time with. But now Jihoon feels caught; he’s not sure where relationships like this are supposed to go. He doesn’t have space in his life for anything more serious than what they’re doing right now, but it seems cruel to expect Mingyu to stick around when they’re not going anywhere.
> 
> Jihoon scowls at the ceiling. The best option is probably to ask Soonyoung what he’s supposed to do about this, but the thought of that conversation makes Jihoon want to crawl under his bed and never leave. He sighs, pushing himself up and kicking the pillow to the side, pulling his laptop in front of him. There’s no easy answer in front of him at least not for the moment, so he might as well spend his time on work instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another early update! I'm going out of town to see Monsta X on Friday (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA) and I'll be gone Saturday as well, so enjoy this monstrously long, smut-packed chapter on me.

Despite the promise that this party was only going to be made up of close friends, Jihoon isn’t surprised when he arrives at Soonyoung’s apartment to find it already packed with at least two dozen people. To himself, he shakes his head, hanging his coat in the sparse space available by the door. He can’t get away with complaining, since this is only the third party he’s dragged himself out to all year, and it could very well be smaller than any of those before it. Jihoon is more in the mood for being surrounded by sweaty people and loud music than usual, at least, since the promise of two weeks of solitude is just around the corner.

It’s become something of an unspoken deal between him and Soonyoung— Jihoon coming out to his Christmas party is good enough to keep Soonyoung from spending the whole of winter break trying to make sure he’s taking regular breaks and eating properly. It’s hardly like Jihoon needs a babysitter, anyway.

Jeonghan has himself draped over the couch, still favoring his ankle a little even though he barely hurt it at all. He likes the pampering attention, especially when it comes from Seungcheol. Though, at the moment he only seems to have Joshua with him. Jihoon drops to sit on his other side, interrupting whatever it was the two of them were mumbling quietly about.

“Jihoonie,” Jeonghan says, smiling brightly and reaching out like he wants to pull Jihoon into a hug. Jihoon leans the other way, frowning at him.

Being more in the mood for people than usual still means Jihoon isn’t in the mood for them at all.

“I’m not getting you a drink,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. Joshua stifles a small laugh into his sleeve.

“Well Shua doesn’t know what I like,” Jeonghan says, his back leaning against Joshua’s side. “He’s no good with alcohol.”

“I don’t know what you like either,” Jihoon says, leaning back against the couch. “Sucker someone else into fetching things for you.”

“That’s not nice,” Jeonghan says, pushing himself up with a lofty sigh. He doesn’t even wince at the weight on his ankle, and Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Don’t give my seat away.”

Joshua nods as Jeonghan walks away before looking over at Jihoon, still smiling as sweetly as ever. “Are the stakes the same as last year?”

“That sounds fine to me,” Jihoon says, shrugging though he finds himself grinning as well. “He’s got until the party ends to make a move since Seungcheol-hyung leaves in the morning. No telling him we have money riding on it. If they go home together I owe you double.”

Joshua nods his head, opening his wallet and glancing at the bills he has in there before putting it away again. “And whoever wins has to use some of the money to get his gift.”

“Right, your rule,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes with a small laugh. “Oh hey. I told Mingyu he could bet too if he wanted.”

“Is he here?” Joshua asks, sitting up and tilting his head like he’ll somehow be able to pick Mingyu out from the throng of uncomfortably close students in the room.

Though, considering the fact that Mingyu towers over most everyone Jihoon knows, perhaps it’s not as foolish as it seems.

“He said he was coming,” Jihoon says, looking down at his lap. He feels suddenly foolish for having brought it up at all. Mingyu probably won’t even remember the bet, and if he does, he’ll likely just find it silly that this is something Jihoon and Joshua make a real event out of every year.

“Mingyu-ya!” Joshua says, his voice bright as he hops out of his seat, and to himself, Jihoon curses Mingyu for being so massive and easily spotted in a crowd. Mingyu turns, blinking as he’s dragged over to the couch.

“What’s going on?” He asks, looking between the two of them. Jihoon rolls his eyes.

“Remember I told you about our bet on Jeonghan-hyung?” He asks, and Mingyu pauses for a moment before nodding his head, grinning.

“Yeah. You guys do that here?”

“Yup,” Joshua says, smiling as he explains the same set of rules to Mingyu. “We just put in whatever we have on us.

“Oh, okay,” Mingyu says, still grinning. Jihoon feels slightly less like an idiot, at least. “Am I allowed to bet on Seungcheol-hyung?”

“Only if you’re really set on losing,” Jihoon says, smiling a little himself now. “I don’t think he has any idea what Jeonghan is up to.”

“I don’t think he does either,” Mingyu says, chuckling. “But I know he likes Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Do you?” Jihoon asks, craning his neck to look over Mingyu’s shoulder. “Well, you better hurry up and pick before Jeonghan comes back.”

“Right! Seungcheol-hyung it is,” Mingyu says, combing his bangs away from his face. His hair looks softer than usual, though that could just be a trick of the light, and his hair drops quickly back into his face. Jihoon wonders if he skipped gelling it up the way he usually does.

“Good luck,” Joshua says, his smile going soft and easy again as soon as Jeonghan arrives, shifting over to make room for him. Mingyu gets caught staring in wonder for a second and Jeonghan looks at him with a laugh.

“Don’t tell me Shua’s over here charming you too,” he says, throwing an arm over Joshua’s shoulders. “I’m very protective of him.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Joshua says, though Jeonghan laughs at the declaration. Jihoon glares at the both of them.

“You two spend too much time together,” he says, wrinkling his nose in annoyance. Jeonghan pouts, but Jihoon ignores that it’s directed at him. He stands, using Mingyu’s shoulder to leverage himself off the couch. “I’m getting a drink.”

“But you wouldn’t go get me one?” Jeonghan says, holding his cup in front of him with a little huff. Jihoon shrugs, weaving his way between people, suddenly bent on escaping the couch and Mingyu’s horribly starstruck expression.

The cramped kitchen is quiet, or at least empty of people that Jihoon knows, and he decides on grabbing one of the offensively cheap beers from a melting tub of ice rather than trying to make himself a drink. It’s shitty and tastes sour going down, but Jihoon ignores it. There’s an array of Christmas lights through the apartment as always, but now Soonyoung has them hung with bulbs in cherry red and bright green. Jihoon wonders for a moment if Seokmin helped him decorate, and he wonders how many of the ornaments ended up broken with the two of them fumbling their way through the task.

The thought makes him smile, one that isn’t even wiped away by the next swallow of beer. He doesn’t need to remind himself that being hung up on Mingyu is a stupid way to spend his evening, especially because he’s nothing of Mingyu’s, and Kim Mingyu is nothing of his. Jihoon looks down at the sweating can in his hand, sighs, and turns to leave the kitchen. Mingyu is no longer seated on the couch with Jeonghan and Joshua, but Jihoon avoids the spot anyway. 

There are people sprawled through every possible inch of Soonyoung’s apartment, including the yard that separates his building from the next one. Jihoon ducks out the door, ignoring the cold that nips at his face.

Usually, Soonyoung himself is impossible to actually locate during these affairs, so seeing him holding a threatening handful of snow in Wonwoo’s direction is a surprise. Jihoon pauses, stepping away from the path of the door but staying out of the fray as well. Wonwoo looks at Soonyoung, his mouth set into an impassive line.

“You’ll miss,” he says, his lips turning upward at the corners, obviously fighting the urge to grin at Soonyoung. Soonyoung’s brow furrows, eyes flicking back and forth like he’s measuring the distance between the two of them. The snow in his hand is starting to melt, and the tips of his fingers have gone bright pink.

“Will not,” he says, a beat too late, and Wonwoo laughs. His cheeks are pink, and he’s left his glasses at home for once. Without thinking, Jihoon looks around, expecting to find Junhui somewhere outside as well.

“What are you two fighting about, anyway?” Jihoon asks, holding the can up to his mouth. Soonyoung looks over, still frowning.

“He’s being a jerk,” he says as if that’s at all enlightening. Jihoon nods his head.

“Wonwoo-goon is always a jerk,” he says. “Gonna throw it?”

“Aren’t you supposed to support me when I get into fights?” Soonyoung says, sighing and dropping the snowball. Wonwoo laughs again, shaking his head and leaning back on the brick wall of the building.

“That’s Seungkwan’s job.”

“Some best friend I have,” Soonyoung says, sighing dramatically but throwing his arm over Jihoon’s shoulders. Jihoon huffs as he’s pulled against Soonyoung’s side, shaking his head.

“No one told me that being friends with you was gonna be so much trouble,” he says, pinching at Soonyoung’s side.

“Have you seen Mingyu-ya around?” Wonwoo asks, and Jihoon jerks his head around in surprise, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says, fingers tightening around the can. The two of them are the only ones who know any of the details about Jihoon’s relationship— or his lack of one— with Mingyu. It’s not exactly a topic he has a lot to say about. “Why? Do you need him?”

Wonwoo shrugs, his face returned to apathy. Jihoon frowns at that, taking another long sip of his drink to avoid snapping at Wonwoo to mind his own damn business.

He forgets that Wonwoo is not the one that he should be worried about.

“How’s all that going?” Soonyoung asks, squeezing Jihoon’s shoulder and smiling. “Are you still…?”

“Fucking him?” Jihoon asks, raising both of his eyebrows. 

Soonyoung shrugs, grinning. “I was gonna say ‘hanging out’ since it sounds nicer.”

“I’ve only seen him sneak out of my apartment twice this month,” Wonwoo says, his cup hovering just below his mouth. Jihoon shoots him a glare, and Wonwoo shrugs his shoulders. “Mingyu-ya is gone all the time, though.”

“Not with me,” Jihoon says, though that’s only half true. He is spending a lot of his time with Mingyu— far more than he ever planned on, but a surprising amount of it has been on things other than sex. He looks down at the can in his hand and shakes his head, shrugging. “Probably whoever else he’s seeing.”

There’s a long, silent pause before Wonwoo breaks out laughing, slapping his hand against the wall. Jihoon stares at him blankly for a long moment before looking over at Soonyoung.

“I think that’s the hardest he’s ever laughed at something I said,” Jihoon says, shaking his head. “Do you know why that’s so funny?”

“Mingyu-ya doesn’t date around,” Soonyoung says, shaking his head. “Also, Wonwoo has probably cracked.”

“First answer,” Wonwoo says, a grin still lighting up his face. “Mingyu-ya isn’t seeing anyone else.”

Jihoon bites down on the inside of his cheek, trying to decide exactly how he’s supposed to respond to that. He doesn’t come up with anything, so instead, he just shrugs, taking another sip of his now nearly empty beer.

“Where’s Seokmin?” He asks, looking up at Soonyoung, hoping he’s not making too clumsy a job of changing the subject.

It works to his benefit that Soonyoung is criminally easy to distract. He lifts his head immediately, ignoring the fact that the three of them are standing out in the cold with Seokmin nowhere in sight.

“Inside,” he says, after a moment, and Jihoon jabs his elbow into Soonyoung’s side. 

“You’re useless,” he sighs, ducking out of Soonyoung’s grasp. “I need another drink.”

“Did you make your bet?” Wonwoo asks, his head tilted slightly to the side.

“Yup. I will be stealing money from Joshua-hyung and Mingyu this year,” Jihoon says, smirking slightly. “So Jeonghan-hyung will get a nice present at least.”

“That’ll be a good consolation then,” Wonwoo says, chuckling as Jihoon lets himself back inside.

After the cold of outside, the air in Soonyoung’s apartment feels oppressively hot and heavy. Jihoon rubs the sleeve of his sweater against his face, trying to bring some warmth back into it. He takes a wandering path through to the kitchen, narrowly avoiding a collision with Seungcheol’s back. Jihoon stops short, dropping his hand and rolling his eyes. “Hyung, why are you blocking the doorway?”

Seungcheol whips around, smiling even as one of his hands goes to rub nervously at the back of his neck. “Sorry. I was kinda… lost in thought.”

“Could you be lost in thought somewhere else?” Jihoon asks, sighing. He’s not sure what about his conversation with Soonyoung and Wonwoo soured his mood so much, but suddenly the heat and noise of the party just make him long to go home. Seungcheol laughs, a shade too loud, and Jihoon raised an eyebrow at him. There’s a pink flush over his cheeks, meaning he’s probably had far more to drink than Jihoon has himself.

“Sorry,” he says, though he fails to move more than a few steps out of the way. Jihoon gives up on the fantasy of getting something else to drink right away and instead leans against the wall at Seungcheol’s side.

He doesn’t ask anything before Seungcheol starts talking, but then, he knows well enough that he doesn’t really have to. “You and Jeonghan are pretty close.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jihoon says, glancing sideways up at Seungcheol. “I’m not his favorite like Joshua-hyung, but we talk.”

“Um,” Seungcheol mumbles, looking down at his feet. “Can I ask you something then?”

“Is it gonna make me wanna hit you?” Jihoon asks, wishing even harder that he had a drink for this.

“Probably,” Seungcheol says, lifting his head with a grin. “But you’re sort of my only option here.”

“You wanna know if he’s got his eye on anyone,” Jihoon says, his voice flat. “You can’t ask Joshua-hyung because he delights in torturing you almost as much as Jeonghan does.”

“Exactly,” Seungcheol says, licking his lips nervously.

Jihoon chews on this information for a moment. There aren’t any rules specifically relating to Seungcheol in their bet, and Jihoon isn’t quite petty enough to try and delay Jeonghan’s chances by lying. But outright telling Seungcheol would not only be a problem for the bet, but Jihoon’s life after Jeonghan eventually found out about it.

“I don’t really know,” he says, hoping the moment hasn’t stretched too long with him mulling things over. It feels shitty to lie since he knows very well that Jeonghan has had both of his eyes on Seungcheol for the better part of the last three years. “We don’t really talk about that kinda stuff. I’m not very good at love advice.”

At least those two things are true.

Seungcheol frowns, looking back into the packed living room.

“Something happen?” Jihoon asks, looking up with Seungcheol with his brow wrinkled.

“Ah, not really? Kind of?” Seungcheol says, his shoulders drooping as he sighs. “The other day… after he twisted his ankle? I took him home and tried to get him all comfortable and stuff but before I left he said something like that wasn’t how he was planning on things going.”

“I doubt he planned on spraining his ankle,” Jihoon says, shrugging.

“It just seemed like he meant something more than that,” Seungcheol says, his eyes cutting sideways again. Jihoon isn’t sure where Jeonghan wandered off to, but Jeonghan is only ever a few drinks away from making a fool of himself in front of Seungcheol.

Usually, that’s the highlight of these parties for Jihoon, but tonight he just feels strangely lonely, especially hearing that Jeonghan might finally be getting the chance he’s been praying for with Seungcheol.

“I really dunno, hyung,” he says, shaking his head and detaching himself from the wall. He doesn’t tell Seungcheol to do the smart thing and go talk to Jeonghan himself. Instead, he shoulders his way into the kitchen, hoping against all odds that he’s not dragged into any other relationship talk tonight.

Luck isn’t on his side because of course, Mingyu is standing in the kitchen, sulking at something that Minghao has said to him. Minghao has a grin on his face, holding a red cup loosely in his fingers. Jihoon ducks his head between his shoulders, reaching to grab another beer, deciding instead to spend his energy on hoping that Mingyu doesn’t notice him.

It’s pointless, of course. Mingyu looks at him with a bright smile, combing his hair back once again. “Jihoon-hyung! There you are.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon says, popping the top of the beer.

“Are you having fun? I haven’t seen you around that much,” Mingyu says, one hand in his pocket, taking up his usual place of looming over Jihoon as he talks. Minghao has a look on his face like the conversation is immediately distasteful, and Jihoon wonders exactly how many people Soonyoung has been running his mouth to.

It’s a wonder that Jihoon has been able to keep Jeonghan’s nose out of things this long, though he suspects that he was figured out on that front long ago as well.

“It’s a party,” Jihoon says, shrugging and looking back toward the door. “There’s not much to say about it.”

“I guess,” Mingyu says, though his smile doesn’t falter. “Did you talk to Seungcheol-hyung?”

“You know putting him up to talking to Jeonghan is cheating,” Jihoon says, fighting off the urge to smile.

“I didn’t!” Mingyu says, holding up both hands in front of him and laughing. “He was already on a mission when I saw him.”

“If you did I’ll find out,” Jihoon says, grinning just a little. “And then I’ll take all the money.”

“I like these rules,” Minghao says, smirking at Mingyu. “You could take all of his money anyway. Keeps it fresh.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Mingyu says, sighing. His hand rests on the back of Jihoon’s neck after a moment, shaking his head. “Minghao-ya is a bully.”

Jihoon debates the merits of swatting Mingyu’s hand away, but it’s warm, and he’s still chilled from standing outside with Soonyoung and Wonwoo. And as much as Jihoon would like to deny it, to himself and to everyone, it feels nice— it makes him feel nice.

The way Minghao’s eyebrows creep up just slightly doesn’t, but Mingyu seems to hardly notice. He rolls his thumb over the nape of Jihoon’s neck, looking down at him with a smile. “Besides, don’t you want them to finally work things out? Jeonghan-hyung will probably stop dragging you along if they do.”

“As tempting as that is, I’d rather he do it tomorrow,” Jihoon says, grinning against the rim of his can. “I haven’t had to pay up yet, I’d like to keep it that way. Mingyu sighs, his hand dropping off Jihoon’s neck.

“You’re the least romantic person I know, Jihoon-hyung,” he says, though his voice is warm.

Jihoon wrinkles his nose at himself, taking a too long drink of his beer, finding the bottom of it too quickly. “Probably.”

Minghao says something that Jihoon doesn’t quite catch, punching Mingyu’s shoulder before drifting out of the room. It’s hardly like the two of them are actually left alone, since people are bustling in and out of the kitchen for drinks, but they flit in and out of Jihoon’s attention so quickly they’re hardly noticed at all.

He’s focused instead on the fact that he wants to kiss Mingyu. It’s not exactly a surprising feeling; he’s spent more time kissing Mingyu than anyone else he knows, and he’s had enough shitty beer to feel just on the other side of sober.

But kissing Mingyu is, for the most part, a purely physical activity. Like jogging or those scant few times that Jihoon has allowed Soonyoung to drag him along to work out. There isn’t usually this annoying, bubbly feeling in the pit of his stomach like he swallowed a freshly kicked beehive.

Jihoon sighs, looking away and pressing his tongue against the corner of his mouth. He's hoping to find something in the other room to distract him from Mingyu and the strange, unsettled feeling in his stomach. Nothing catches his attention, and Jihoon is about to give in and drag Mingyu off-- just to see if kissing him does anything to make him feel less like he's about to crawl clean out of his own skin.

That is until he spots Seungcheol a dozen feet away, standing with his arm leaning against the wall. More interesting is the fact that Jeonghan is directly in front of him, back to the wall. He's looking down at the plastic cup in his hands, bangs falling into his face. Jihoon turns, reluctant to take his eye off the two of them, and reaches out to tug on Mingyu's arm.

"Look," he hisses, raising both eyebrows as Mingyu leans over him, a hand on Jihoon's shoulder.

"Do you think they're gonna...?" Mingyu asks, his voice hushed even though the music is more than loud enough to keep his voice from traveling. Jihoon shakes his head.

"Jeonghan-hyung always chickens out," he says, though he frowns when Jeonghan lifts his head. Seungcheol reaches out, tucking Jeonghan's hair out of his face. Jeonghan's tongue darts nervously over his lips, and he says something that Jihoon can't hear. Mingyu's fingers curl tighter around his shoulder, and Jihoon wonders if he's holding his breath.

When Jeonghan starts to step away from the wall, still talking, Jihoon smirks. Usually, Jeonghan refusing to actually do anything about his feelings annoys Jihoon to no end, but tonight he's counting on it. For a moment, it seems like that'll be the end of it, but Seungcheol turns, grabbing hold of Jeonghan's arm, keeping him from running away once again.

He leans in, head tilted to the side, covering Jeonghan's mouth with his own. The kiss is quick, and Seungcheol breaks it first, looking like he didn't expect that from himself. Jeonghan stands frozen, staring up at Seugncehol with his lips slightly parted, staring at him in shock. Mingyu pulls his hand back as he nearly squeals in excitement. Jihoon does his best to tune the noise out, sighing as Seungcheol pulls Jeonghan closer, kissing him once again.

"That means I win, right?" Mingyu says, grinning when Jihoon turns to look at him. Jihoon narrows his eyes, the bubbly feeling gone from his stomach, and instead, he just finds himself feeling annoyed.

"I guess," he snaps, pushing his way around Mingyu to grab another drink. Mingyu continues hovering a foot away.

"So you owe me then," Mingyu says, and Jihoon glares at him.

"So does Joshua-hyung," Jihoon says, a shade away from snapping at him. "Why don't you go play debt collector with him?"

"Because I have you right here," Mingyu says, his grin only getting wider. He taps too hard on Jihoon's shoulder, trying to get him to turn around again. "And you have to help me get a present. I don't know what Jeonghan-hyung likes."

"Later," Jihoon snaps, smacking Mingyu's hand away. Mingyu looks stunned for half a second, his hand hovering in the air between them. Jihoon pauses, staring up at Mingyu with a frown on his face.

"Hyung?" Mingyu asks, tilting his head to the side. Jihoon is about to snap something else at him, but he grabs hold of Mingyu's shirt, hauling him through the narrow kitchen door.

Mingyu yelps, stumbling as he's forced to trail along behind. Jihoon switches to pulling Mingyu by his sleeve instead, stepping into the bathroom and kicking the door shut once Mingyu follows behind him.

The situation is a familiar one, and Jihoon catches the grin on Mingyu's face. He grips the front of Mingyu's shirt, pulling them closer together.

"Shut up," Jihoon says, before crashing his mouth into Mingyu's, standing on his toes to reach. Mingyu makes a surprised sound against Jihoon's lips, both arms wrapping around his sides, helping hold him steady. Mingyu's shoulders lean back against the wall, his fingers tightening in the back of Jihoon's shirt.

Jihoon bites down on Mingyu's lip, digging his fingers into Mingyu's shoulders. He can't name why exactly he's so annoyed with Mingyu suddenly, or why it makes tension zip up his spine and burn in the pit of his stomach, but he pushes his tongue into Mingyu's mouth, tongue pressing against the ridges of his soft pallet. Mingyu groans, his fingers twitching around the hem of Jihoon's shirt.

"Um." He leans back, almost slamming his head against the wall. Mingyu swallows hard, his throat bobbing. "I don't think this was part of the bet."

"I said shut up," Jihoon says, his teeth against the side of Mingyu's throat. Mingyu swallows again, and Jihoon bites the soft skin just below his Adam's apple. Mingyu, his mouth open to say something else, whines in surprise.

Jihoon doesn't smirk, he just bites down again a few inches to the side, hard enough to leave the imprint of his teeth behind. He hollows his cheeks slightly, sucking the skin hard enough to darken the impression. There's a flush high on Mingyu's cheeks, his mouth hanging open just a bit.

Jihoon pulls at the hem of Mingyu's shirt, dropping to his feet. "Off."

"Hyung, we're in Soonyoung's bathroom," Mingyu says, his eyes looking a little glazed. "Is this a good idea?"

"It was fine last time," Jihoon snaps, stepping back and tugging at Mingyu's shirt again. Mingyu blinks, pulling the shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor. He steps back, pulling Mingyu along by the arm and pushing himself up onto the counter. The smile on Mingyu's face is slight, confused, and he steps forward to stand between Jihoon's legs without speaking this time.

Jihoon pulls him into another hard kiss, leaning up to dig his fingers into Mingyu's hair, giving it a sharp tug. Mingyu hisses softly, one of his hands on the back of Jihoon's neck, the other dropping to rest on his thigh. Jihoon shifts forward, sliding his knee between Mingyu's thighs, pressing up against his half-hard cock. Mingyu gasps softly, his hand tightening at the back of Jihoon's neck, rocking his hips forward to grind along Jihoon's thigh.

Leaning back, Jihoon pulls his shirt over his head and drops it into the pile next to Mingyu's. He puts his hands on Mingyu's hips, pulling them forward and working his pants open, forehead furrowed slightly in focus.

Mingyu's fingers slide into Jihoon's hair, the grin on his face growing. "Do you have a plan for this?"

"Do you need me to tell you to be quiet again?" Jihoon says, raising his eyebrows. Mingyu laughs, shaking his head. He kisses Jihoon, more softly than before, and Jihoon is in no mood for it. He cups his palm against Mingyu's cock, rubbing through his underwear. His thumb presses the tip of Mingyu's cock through the thin fabric.

The truth is he has no plan for what he' doing-- not just fooling around in Soonyoung's bathroom but with Mingyu in general. And he doesn't want to think about it anymore. Mingyu is good at helping clear his head; making it so Jihoon just has to focus on the task in front of him. Like exercise with the benefit of an orgasm at the end-- purely physical. Jihoon doesn't have to feel guilty for using Mingyu as a means to an end since that's all he's supposed to be.

Mingyu gasps out a quiet breath, pushing his hips forward into Jihoon's hand, biting down on his lip. Jihoon looks up, watching his face flush red, chin tucked toward his chest. Jihoon leans back carefully, fumbling Soonyoung's medicine cabinet open with his free hand, hoping that he still keeps it was well stocked as he used to.

It seems like he's in luck for once since there's a half empty bottle of lube tucked to one side. Jihoon grabs it, releasing Mingyu's cock and wiggling forward on the counter. "Pants."

The direction confuses Mingyu for a second, and he puts his thumbs through the loops of his belt like he isn't sure whether to pull them up or not. Jihoon rolls his eyes, grabbing both of Mingyu's hands and dragging them to his lap.

Mingyu grins, pulling Jihoon's pants open for him. Jihoon lifts his hips, shoving them down along with his underwear. It feels incredibly awkward to be sitting naked in Soonyoung's bathroom while music from the party blares outside, and the plastic of the counter is cold under his ass. But Mingyu leans in, pressing his mouth to Jihoon's neck, effectively distracting him from the feeling. His hands drop to Jihoon's thighs, spreading his legs apart. He reaches, grabbing the lube from Jihoon's side and opening the bottle, slicking it over his fingers. His other hand lingers on Jihoon's thigh, squeezing and massaging the muscle slowly.

"Mingyu-ya, I swear we don't have time for this," Jihoon growls, digging his fingers into the back of Mingyu's head. Mingyu tries to laugh but it comes out as a grunt instead when Jihoon tugs on his hair. His hand drops between Jihoon's parted thighs, slick fingers massaging his rim. Jihoon leans back on one hand his shoulders against the wall. He bites down on his lower lip t keep from groaning as one of Mingyu's long fingers slides inside. Mingyu seems to finally have caught on that they're pressed for time because his finger thrusts in and out quickly.

Jihoon curls his ankle around Mingyu's calf, spreading his legs further apart. Mingyu's hand cups around his chin, tilting his face up to kiss him again, tongue pressing into his mouth. Mingyu adds another finger, just shy of too soon and Jihoon's muscles burn with the stretch of it.

Jihoon hisses into Mingyu's mouth, biting his lip again. He's probably going to leave Mingyu looking like a mess when he goes home for break; with a bruised mouth and bites on his neck, but right now Jihoon can't find it in himself to care. Mingyu strokes along the line of his jaw, pressing both fingers in slowly until they're buried all the way. Jihoon's hips arch off of the counter, leaning more of his weight onto his hand.

Mingyu pulls back slightly, lips parted like he's about to speak, and Jihoon glares at him. A grin catches on Mingyu's face.

"Yeah, shut up. I know," Mingyu says, curling his fingers inside Jihoon, just short of pressing his prostate. Jihoon grits his teeth, swallowing the urge to yell at Mingyu. He drags his nails down Mingyu's shoulder instead, leaving thin pink lines in his wake, swallowing another whine when Mingyu pumps his fingers once more

"God— hurry up," Jihoon hisses before biting the lobe of Mingyu's ear. "There's a time limit here, you ass."

Mingyu spreads his fingers apart slowly and Jihoon tugs his ear slightly before releasing it. "Mingyu-ya, c'mon."

He presses his lips against Mingyu's ear, and this time Mingyu groans quietly. He pulls his fingers out, dropping his hand from Jihoon’s face to grab the bottle again, squirting lube into his palm and slicking it over his cock. He pulls one of Jihoon’s legs around his thigh, drawing Jihoon closer to him, the head of his cock pressing against Jihoon’s hole. He slides in slowly and Jihoon grips onto Mingyu’s shoulders with both hands, nails digging in.

Jihoon leans his head against Mingyu’s chest, groaning into his skin. Their hips meet after a moment and Mingyu cups his hand around the small of Jihoon’s back, fingers pressing into his skin. Mingyu pauses for a long moment, giving Jihoon time to adjust to the stretch. Jihoon tightens his leg around Mingyu’s waist, pressing a small kiss against his chest. Mingyu flattens his hand against Jihoon’s back, pulling his hips back until only the head of his cock is still inside, thrusting forward again hard. He fits both his of his hands around Jihoon’s thighs, and Jihoon makes a surprised sound when he’s lifted off of the counter, his weight supported by Mingyu’s arms. He wraps both arms around Mingyu’s neck, clinging tighter when Mingyu presses his hips back into the wall, fingers denting the soft flesh of Jihoon’s thighs.

Jihoon leans his head back against the wall, whining softly as Mingyu picks up a slow rhythm, thrusting all the way in each time. Jihoon’s ankles lock together at Mingyu’s back, rolling his hips forward as much as he can. One of Mingyu’s hands slides up his chest, ducking his head to press his mouth against Mingyu’s jaw. He tilts his head to the side, grinding his hips forward against Mingyu’s.

The bare head of his cock grazes over Jihoon’s prostate, and Jihoon whimpers, gripping tighter around Mingyu’s neck. He presses his head against Mingyu’s shoulder, freeing one of his hands to work it between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around his own cock. He jerks himself off along with Mingyu's thrusts. Mingyu pushes forward harder, his cock rubbing against Jihoon's prostate over and over. Jihoon bites into the muscle of Mingyu's shoulder, doing his best to keep himself quiet.

Mingyu's lips press against the crown of his head, breath mussing his hair even further. Jihoon arches his back off of the wall, digging his nails into Mingyu's neck, twisting his wrist as he strokes himself. The bathroom isn't very bright, and the bass from the music outside makes the wall rattle slightly, and when Jihoon shuts his eyes everything around him melts into heat, and light, and sensation. It feels like his whole body is too tense, the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears drowning out everything else; even Mingyu groaning above him sounds far off as Jihoon comes. He can feel Mingyu's body shudder around him, thrusting erratically through Jihoon's orgasm, holding Jihoon's thigh more tightly.

He lasts a few more thrusts until there are sparks zipping up the length of Jihoon's spine, the hold of his legs around Mingyu's waist starting to shake, trying his best to keep holding himself up. It's a surprise to feel Mingyu spill inside of him, and Jihoon muffles another sound against Mingyu's skin. Mingyu pumps his hips a few more times, his voice low and rough against the top of Jihoon's head.

Jihoon can feel Mingyu's arms start to shake and he lifts his head, doing his best to glare up at Mingyu. "If you drop me I'll kill you."

"I got you," Mingyu says, his voice still sounding strained. He adjusts his grip before stepping away from the wall, giving Jihoon space to put his legs down carefully before sliding out of him. The strange feeling of it makes Jihoon wrinkle his nose before bending over to grab his clothes from the floor.

"C'mon, we gotta get out of here," he says, setting his clothes on the counter and pulling a wad of toilet paper off the roll, using it to clean off his hand. Mingyu fixes his pants, a flush high on the back of his neck and his cheeks.

Jihoon throws the toilet paper away before getting dressed, doing his best to put Soonyoung's bathroom back in order. He looks over at Mingyu, watching him pulling his shirt on before sighing, looking at the door instead.

It's beginning to sink in exactly how fucked Jihoon is. There's a thin sheen of sweat on Mingyu's skin, and at least three slowly darkening bruises on the side of his neck. And, of course, Mingyu is grinning like it's Christmas already.

"If you go out looking like that it's not very subtle," Jihoon grumbles, though most of his bad mood is gone. Mingyu laughs, brushing his fingers through Jihoon's hair to fix it. Jihoon sighs, but he doesn't duck out of the way either.

He's careful when he opens the door and almost sighs in relief when there's no one waiting outside to bust the two of them. Mingyu's hand lingers at the small of his back for jest a second before he pulls it away. Jihoon glances back, shaking his head.

"You should find Joshua-hyung before you leave," he says, pulling his wallet out and handing the bills he brought along to Mingyu.

"What about the present? Mingyu asks, stuffing the money into his pocket. Jihoon laughs, shaking his head.

"You don't gotta worry about it," he says, walking toward the door, hoping he doesn't smell too obviously of sex. Mingyu follows after him.

"Are you sure? That was the rule," Mingyu says, hovering as Jihoon pulls his coat on.

"Because Joshua-hyung felt bad about betting on his best friend."

"Oh," Mingyu says, his hands in his pockets. "You're leaving?"

"I need a shower," he says, zipping up his coat. "And I don't like parties."

Mingyu nods his head, twisting his fingers together as he stares down at Jihoon. Jihoon pulls the door open, raising both of his eyebrows. "You leave tomorrow?"

"Early train," Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, I'll see you in two weeks."

"Yeah. Two weeks," Jihoon says, stepping out into the cold by himself, letting the door swing shut behind him.

**{* * *}**

Usually, the quiet that envelops the whole campus over break is Jihoon’s favorite thing about the holiday season. There’s nothing to bother him except Soonyoung’s daily calls to either talk about his family or complain about how bored he is. Which means Jihoon has all the time he could want to work and drink instant coffee without anyone around to complain.

So, usually, Jihoon isn’t glaring at the piano in front of him with an erased and rewritten and erased once again sheet of music in front of him, chewing the end of his pencil. There’s a frustrated itch that’s crawled under his skin and nothing he touches seems to come out right.

Jihoon sighs, resisting the urge to beat his head against the keys of the piano until something decent comes out. It’s too early in his coveted alone time for Jihoon to have lost all of his creative talents, but he’s out of ideas and out of patience to keep at it, so he decides to call it a day.

He tosses the wasted paper into the trash as he leaves, bag tossed over his shoulder. He’s supposed to meet with his adviser as soon as the break is over— to go over both of his projects and show mow much progress he’s made.

At least he has the option of simply telling her that he’s washed up and useless and leaving it at that. It’s dark when Jihoon steps outside, and quieter than Jihoon expects it to be. With a sigh, he digs the headphones out of his bag, turning the music up to try and tune out how empty the campus seems. It’s odd— the quiet has never made Jihoon feel lonely before. He likes the quiet; he was excited for it, even.

Now he’s made no progress, and he’s going back to his room by himself. Jihoon frowns, jamming his hands into his pockets as he walks, glaring at the snowy sidewalk. He thinks about calling Soonyoung when he gets back to his room, but he doesn’t want to admit that he’s out of things to do already. And admitting that he’s bored out of his mind, and lonely on top of it will only lead to Soonyoung teasing him— or worse— worrying about him. Jihoon sighs, shoving the door to his building open with his shoulder, looking around the empty lobby.

Jihoon makes his way back to his room and pulling his phone out and glaring at the screen, debating what to do with it. Calling Soonyoung is out, and Jeonghan is likely to spend the whole time working himself into a panic over Seungcheol. Which is a conversation Jihoon will have to submit himself to, but not yet.

Which leaves him short of options and that’s the only reason Jihoon finds himself opening his messages to Mingyu, frowning at the screen.

<< _how’s family time?_

Jihoon sends the message before he can think better of it, crashing onto the bed, tossing his phone onto the pillow and staring at the ceiling. It shouldn’t make him feel so pathetic to be texting Mingyu— they’re friends, after all, no matter how often that friendship involves the both of them being naked at the same time. Which means he shouldn’t feel like a loser for just sending him a message.

He also shouldn’t be waiting around for Mingyu to text back. That’s even more pathetic of him. So, in an effort to avoid feeling totally useless, Jihoon pulls his laptop off the desk, dragging it onto the bed instead. He clicks through the tabs left open from before he fell asleep.

The vibration of his phone from behind him makes Jihoon jump, his hand slapping the keyboard in surprise.

>> _it’s fine. I went shopping with my mom_

Jihoon looks down at this phone with a scowl, wondering what he’s trying to accomplish with this. It’s strangely hard to come up with anything to say, despite how easy it is usually to talk to Mingyu.

>> _do you miss me already hyung?_

The message makes Jihoon frown, mostly at himself, because yes he _does_ miss Mingyu already. And realizing that makes Jihoon want to avoid talking to him forever. He doesn’t want Mingyu to be involved enough in his life to be missed in the first place.

<< _no. The coffee is better when you’re gone_

He finds himself grinning as he sends the message, as much as he wants to be annoyed himself for giving in, to begin with.

>> _you’re drinking the instant stuff aren’t you?_

<< _I said it was better, didn’t I?_

Jihoon pushes his laptop to the side, flopping back to his pillow with a laugh. He can picture the sulk on Mingyu’s face.

>> _so have you finished all the work for next semester yet?_

<< _music is a lost cause and I’m quitting_

Jihoon sighs, leaning his head against the pillow. There’s a tight, unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach like he’s been wound too tightly. His phone buzzes next to him and Jihoon picks it up, wrinkling his nose.

To his surprise, it’s not just a text from Mingyu but a picture as well; sitting in what Jihoon assumes is his bed, shirt off, an obvious pout on his face. Jihoon scowls at the picture, wondering what exactly he’s supposed to do with it, even when he reads the message.

>> _I bet you just need a break_

<< _you and Soonyoung are a team, aren’t you?_

Jihoon shakes his head to himself when Mingyu sends another picture. He’s still undressed, and this time he’s looking up into the camera with a grin and a wink.

>> _we have a secret handshake_

>> _but you really should try to relax hyung_

>> _let me see you smile!!_

He stares at the message for what must be a long time. Mingyu isn’t so subtle that Jihoon can mistake the request for a picture and at least he’s both slept and showered, so he looks better than he usually does during breaks.

Jihoon pulls open the camera of his phone, doing his best to smile in a way that isn’t horribly awkward. It’s a huge failure, but he sends the best picture he manages to take to Mingyu.

<< _happy now?_

>> _you look worn out_

<< _I slept like 6 hours_

Jihoon takes another picture for good measure, opening his eyes as wide as he can and smiling at the camera. He does his best to actually relax like Mingyu is always suggesting and this time the picture feels even more awkward. Jihoon frowns at it. Texting has never been his best form of communication, and he can just picture Mingyu laughing at him and his terrible selfies.

>> _you look tired still_

<< _that’s just my face_

>> _do you need help?_

He scowls at the screen, tilting his head.

<< _help with what?_

>> _relaxing_

As bad at Jihoon is at texting, he’s pretty sure he can pick up on the message behind that at least. It’s not an entirely unwelcome offer since Mingyu’s major role in Jihoon’s life is fucking him until he’s at least marginally less stressed than usual. But that’s not something Jihoon has any experience with over the phone, of all things. He chews on his lower lip, mulling over his options.

He could say no, or just avoid texting Mingyu back, but then he’d be bored and lacking someone to talk to. But if he says yes, then he risks making a fool of himself.

<< _alright. Help me out_

It's not hard to picture Mingyu grinning at that, cheeks flushed, bashful and pleased at the same time. He's spending too much time with Mingyu, he figures, since the image comes so easily to mind, but Jihoon tries not to dwell on that, at least for the moment. He wonders if this is something that Mingyu has done before with his infinite number of serious relationships, then banishes that thought from his mind as well. 

>> _okay. Get comfortable_

Jihoon isn't sure if that means naked, or just pile up his pillows behind him. He stares at his phone, wondering if he's supposed to ask. 

He's not sure what about this is supposed to be sexy to begin with. Wrinkling his nose, he pulls his shirt off, figuring that at least makes him mostly equal with what Mingyu is wearing. 

<< _am I just supposed to sit here and imagine you or something?_

>> _is that what you usually do?_

Jihoon immediately regrets asking.

<< _I wanna be turned on, not annoyed_

>> _well, do what you usually do for that_

>> _especially if it's involving me_

Jihoon rolls his eyes at that, but he pauses when Mingyu sends him another picture. The lights are dimmer this time, and Mingyu’s long arms let him take a shot of his body, bare-chested with his shorts low on his hips, one hand resting on his thigh, fingers curled into the fabric of his shorts. 

It helps more than Jihoon would ever want to admit, and he stares at the picture longer than necessary, his eyes tracing over the fuzzy line of hair on Mingyu’s stomach, the definition of his muscles. Jihoon doesn't take the time to stare at these things in person, but the version of Mingyu frozen on his phone can't laugh at him for staring with his tongue poking the corner of his mouth. 

He isn't sure if he's supposed to send a picture back or not, and he's certainly not anywhere as nice to look at as Mingyu is. It's not often that Jihoon is willing to let Mingyu take the lead like this, but he's thoroughly lost on the process. 

Instead of taking a picture, Jihoon follows Mingyu’s advice. He lays down on the bed, shoving a pillow under him to keep his back from getting sore, holding his phone propped up on his chest. Scowling, still feeling totally awkward about it, Jihoon rubs his hand over his stomach. 

>> _comfy yet?_

Jihoon is glad for the direction and he takes a deep breath before opening the camera up. He can't capture nearly as much of himself as Mingyu can, so he settles for a picture of his chest instead, his hand still resting on his stomach. The bright lights of his room make the way his chest is flushed red in embarrassment more obvious and Jihoon almost deletes the picture rather than sending it. 

He goes through with it, partially because he's curious about Mingyu’s response, and partially because there is a weak sense of hunger low in his stomach and he's loathe to give up now.

<< _as close as I’m gonna get_

>> _you look cute_

<< _don’t start with me_

He can practically hear Mingyu laughing in his head, and he smiles in spite of how awkward this all is. 

>> _you’re right. You’re not cute at all hyung_

<< _isn’t this supposed to be sexy?_

>> _it’s supposed to be relaxing_

<< _would you prefer if I took a nap_

Jihoon smirks a little, his thumb rolling in small circles at the top of his hip, shifting his legs slightly apart. He’s not exactly all the way to turned on, but he’s… interested. Starting to feel less out of his element, at least. Halfway to enjoying himself.

>> _if you fall asleep you’ll hurt my feelings_

<< _now you’re trying to tempt me_

His phone ringing in his hand is such a surprise that Jihoon almost drops it on his face. There’s a strange second of fear that someone else is calling him while he’s laying half hard in bed, which is the worst possible thing he can picture. 

He's in luck, though, since it's Mingyu himself calling. Jihoon stares for a second before answering the call, blinking. 

“Hey,” he says, hoping he doesn't sound utterly lost as to what's going on. Mingyu laughs, his voice low and warm. 

“I figured you wouldn't fall asleep this way,” he says, and Jihoon has heard enough of Mingyu running his mouth during sex to recognize the rough tone of his voice. It doesn't bother him; it turns the vague warmth in the pit of his stomach into something more real, more solid. 

“I'm sure I could still manage,” Jihoon says, chuckling to himself. He's much better on the phone than he is in text, anyway. 

“Is this alright?” Mingyu asks, sounding shy and hungry at the same time. Jihoon presses his thighs together, his stomach tightening around nothing. 

“It's better. I don't like texting,” he says, one hand sliding over his thigh thoughtlessly. He doesn't say that he likes being able to hear Mingyu’s voice, even though the thought crosses his mind.

“Okay,” Mingyu says, though his voice is still soft, shy. “So talking is better. Um.”

Jihoon fights the urge to laugh, squeezing his hand around his thigh. He wonders if there are still bruises on Mingyu’s neck. He didn't see them in any of the pictures, but he didn't think to look, either. 

“Hey. Are you…” Mingyu starts, trailing off quickly. Jihoon waits a moment for him to say something else, listening to the soft sound of Mingyu breathing. 

“Are you gonna ask if I have my dick out?” Jihoon says, and Mingyu chuckles.

“No,” he says, but he pauses for another moment. Jihoon bites down on his lip, grinning. It's just like Mingyu to be so confident over texts but totally lost now.

Jihoon swallows, still rubbing his thigh, thinking. “Do you do this a lot?”

“Jerk off?” Mingyu asks, and Jihoon shakes his head, hand ghosting over his cock through his pants. 

“On the phone,” he asks. _Thinking about me,_ he doesn't add, not sure he wants the answer. 

“I haven't really tried this before,” Mingyu says, and Jihoon can hear him swallow nervously. “Have you?”

“Obviously not,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes. Mingyu pauses for a moment and Jihoon listens to the sound of him breathing, of the bed rustling underneath him. He keeps his hand working over the bulge in his pants, turning his head to hide his face in the crook of his arm, the phone still pressed to his ear. 

“Hyung?” Mingyu says, his voice thin and tentative. “Do you think, um, I could see sometime?”

The meaning of the question gets lost in Jihoon’s hazy brain, working his pants open with one hand. “See what?”

“You,” Mingyu says. “Doing, uh, this.”

“You wanna watch me jerk off?” Jihoon asks, not sure if he finds the request sexy or just weird. It seems much less hard for his lower half to decide his hips rolling up into the bare friction of his palm.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, quieter than before. The breath Jihoon lets out shakes and he knows the sound of it travels through the phone. “If that's okay.”

Jihoon’s skin is flushed pink all the way down his chest, and he squeezes his eyes shut, chewing the inside of his cheek. He’s probably supposed to find that less okay than he does. 

“Sure,” he says, glad his voice doesn’t sound too terribly strained. He traps the phone between his shoulder and his ear, shoving his pants down around his thighs, wiggling against the sheet to try and push them down further. He ends up mostly tangled up in his own clothes before he deems it good enough, pushing his hand into his underwear and shifting his grip on the phone. 

He’s at a loss for what to say, still. He wraps his fingers carefully around his cock, hoping Mingyu comes up with something before he makes a fool out of himself any further. He keeps his lip trapped between his teeth, determined not to make any weird noises into the phone.

Mingyu doesn’t seem to have the same reservations because he groans quietly. Jihoon’s skin feels tight, and he squeezes his hand around his cock, twisting his wrist slightly. He’s never given much thought before to the sounds that Mingyu makes— the sharp puffs of his breath and the small groans that sound like they’re getting caught in the back of his throat. But now, without the visual attached, they’re far more obvious. He’s surprised by how much he likes it. 

“You’re being quiet,” Mingyu says, though he sounds a little far away. Jihoon supposes he can’t really blame Mingyu for being distracted since he’s hardly very focused himself. He swallows, slowly letting go of his lower lip, running his tongue over the sore skin. Mingyu almost laughs, though it comes out breezy and short. “Are you still embarrassed?”

“Shut up,” Jihoon says, though the tips of his ears are certainly warm. He presses his face into his arm again, breathing in and out of his mouth shallowly, his thumb rolling slow circles over the head of his cock.

“I like how you sound,” Mingyu says, and Jihoon is caught between enjoying his voice and wanting to crawl into a hole and never come out again. He wants Mingyu to keep talking— he just doesn’t want it to be about _him_.

“Shut up,” he repeats, aware that there’s not any force behind it. He sounds overly loud in the quiet of his room, even the rustle of the blanket under him as he pushes his hips up into his hand. It’s half a surprise that the rabbit quick beating of his heart doesn’t drown out the sound of Mingyu talking to him. He twists his wrist again, and this time he whines, doing his best to strangle the sound off in his throat.

“Like that,” Mingyu says, his voice tangled up with another groan. Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut more tightly, like if he keeps them that way he can somehow avoid how embarrassed he is, whimpering into the phone while his hips fuck up into the tight circle of his hand. He isn’t sure how much Mingyu can actually hear, but as the heat in the pit of his stomach wraps around his spine as well, he cares far less.

It’s much easier, anyway, to focus on the sound of Mingyu’s heavy breathing in his ear, his back arching off the bed. “Fuck!”

He does think to at least push his underwear down around his thighs before he makes too big a mess of them, biting the back of his hand and groaning into it. He can feel Mingyu’s name somewhere on the back of his tongue when he comes, and he’s glad the sounds that come out of his mouth wind up being beyond recognition.

It does nothing to stop Mingyu’s thin whine of _Jihoon_ in his ear or the way that makes his stomach tighten up again, aftershocks still shaking their way down his legs. Mingyu’s breath stutters to a stop for a moment before coming out in one long sigh.

Strangely, Jihoon finds himself smiling, melting into the bed and opening his eyes again. “Still alive?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, his voice husky as he laughs. Jihoon rolls to the side, grabbing a wad of tissues from next to the bed to clean his hand off. “Are you more relaxed now?”

“Mmm,” Jihoon hums, flopping onto his back once more. “I should get back to work.”

“Hyung,” Mingyu whines, laughing underneath it. “It’s _break_ , you should do something fun.”

“Fun like what?” Jihoon asks, not quite willing to sit up again yet. 

“You still gotta help me get Jeonghan-hyung a present,” Mingyu says, though Jihoon is sure he already told Mingyu not to worry about that at the party. “We can go look together.”

“Aren’t you busy?” Jihoon asks, draping his chin on his arm, kicking his pants off the rest of the way.

“Nah. We can meet up this weekend,” Mingyu says, and Jihoon takes a moment to consider the offer.

It seems silly. Mingyu will be back to school before very long, and things will go back to the way that they’ve been. There’s no reason for Jihoon to drag him all the way back to the city in the middle of break just to wander around the shops. He should just say no.

“Alright,” he says because it seems he’s incapable of just doing the simple thing where Mingyu is concerned. “This weekend then.”

“Good,” Mingyu says, and Jihoon thinks he can hear him yawning. It makes Jihoon grin, though he presses it into his arm to hide it like Mingyu will somehow know he’s smiling like an idiot. “I’ll see you then.”

Jihoon hangs up the phone, dropping it onto the bed next to him. He spends a moment staring up at his ceiling, wondering if he’s doing all the right thing.

He’s not sure when everything became such a mess surrounding his relationship with Mingyu, especially since a mess was exactly what Jihoon was trying to avoid. Things with Mingyu were supposed to be easy— just sex with someone who wasn’t a chore to spend time with. But now Jihoon feels caught; he’s not sure where relationships like this are supposed to go. He doesn’t have space in his life for anything more serious than what they’re doing right now, but it seems cruel to expect Mingyu to stick around when they’re not going anywhere.

Jihoon scowls at the ceiling. The best option is probably to ask Soonyoung what he’s supposed to do about this, but the thought of that conversation makes Jihoon want to crawl under his bed and never leave. He sighs, pushing himself up and kicking the pillow to the side, pulling his laptop in front of him. There’s no easy answer in front of him at least not for the moment, so he might as well spend his time on work instead.

**{* * *}**

Jihoon sighs, tilting his head back and watching his breath puff out in a cloud of vapor in front of him. He's standing outside of the train station, waiting for Mingyu to meet him for their ridiculous shopping trip. He's spent the entire day trying to think of good excuses for blowing it off, even though he's not sure _why_ he's so bent on avoiding spending time with Mingyu.

So, instead of home and working, he standing outside in the freezing cold, burying his face in the scarf he accidentally stole from Jeonghan at some point or another over the last few years and his coat, holding a cup of coffee in either hand. He lifts the one he bought for himself up to his mouth, taking a slow sip and closing his eyes, glad for the heat that washes over his tongue.

At least he was able to talk Mingyu into shopping in the afternoon since Jihoon has no plan to get up early for him or anyone. He contemplates taking his phone out to check his messages, but he's left himself without a free hand, so he goes back to glaring at the arrivals board ahead. Before he has a chance to start wondering if it's going to be Mingyu blowing him off instead, another train rattles into the station, bringing a blast of icy cold wind along with it.

Jihoon wrinkles his nose, burrowing further into the warmth of his scarf and taking a step back like somehow that will spare him. With the holidays right around the corner, there's plenty of people getting off to do last minute shopping, and finally, Jihoon spots Mingyu among them.

He steps off the train with a wide smile, a dark colored beanie covering his head and the leather jacket that Jihoon has gotten used to seeing him wearing zipped up to his chin. He waves, nearly knocking himself over in his excitement as he bounds over to Jihoon, smiling clear from ear to ear. Jihoon rolls his eyes, holding up the other coffee with a little sigh.

"Here," he says, tucking his hand into his pocket when Mingyu takes the cup, looking up at him. "It's freezing."

"It's not so bad," Mingyu says, looking at the coffee with his grin stuck firmly in place. "Unless you've been waiting for a long time?"

"Nah," Jihoon says, taking another sip of his drink and nodding ahead of them. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."

"Don't tell me you hate shopping too," Mingyu says, following after as Jihoon starts walking toward the shops. Jihoon shrugs, glancing back at him.

"I hate it less than some other things," he says after a moment. Truth be told, he doesn't usually mind shopping too much, but he typically does it alone with his headphones in, or with Jeonghan.

"Thanks for helping me get something," Mingyu says, his breath making little clouds ahead of him as he talks. His long legs make it easy for him to keep up, and Jihoon walks a little faster to compromise for it.

"It's no big deal," Jihoon says, adjusting his grip around his coffee, holding it with both hands in a bid to try and keep the both of them warm. Mingyu grins down at him, taking a long sip from his own cup.

"You remembered what I like," he says, and there's a twinkle in his eyes.

Jihoon looks ahead again immediately, glad the wind has already stained his face pink so Mingyu can't make it any worse.

"I guessed," he says. It's a lie, and he's sure Mingyu knows it.

"It's a great guess," Mingyu says, laughing, the cup pressed to his lower lip. Jihoon scowls into the bright fabric of his scarf.

"Do you and Joshua-hyung usually do this together?" Mingyu asks, his voice sounding a little odd. Jihoon blinks, looking back at him, surprised when Mingyu's eyes dart away quickly.

"No," he says, remembering Mingyu giving Joshua a look like he might have been the eighth wonder of the world. "Usually I go by myself."

"It's nice of you to help me with it," Mingyu says, looking down at his coffee. "I wouldn't wanna give him something he doesn't like."

"He likes getting gifts," Jihoon says, shaking his head. "Seungcheol is terrible at it but Jeonghan never complains."

"I don't think he likes me as much as Seungcheol-hyung," Mingyu says, the smile picking back up on his face.

"Give him anything short of a cold and he'll probably like you plenty," Jihoon says, chuckling a little himself.

"What about you?" Mingyu asks as they walk into a store, his arm stretched over Jihoon's head to hold the door open for him. Jihoon pauses, blinking.

"What'd I get him?" He asks, confused.

"What do you like for presents," Mingyu says, nudging Jihoon through the doorway. If anything, the question leaves Jihoon more confused than before.

"My parents usually send me a card and a book," he says, teeth worrying the inside of his lip. "Jeonghan-hyung likes to give me obnoxious pink shit."

"But what do you _like_ ," Mingyu says, drawing the word out for emphasis. Jihoon tilts his head, looking at the racks of clothing around them as he thinks.

"I dunno. Music stuff, I guess?" He says, unwinding the scarf from his neck, letting it hang from his jacket. "Soonyoung-ah got me a used guitar one year that was pretty nice."

"So your only interest in the world is music?" Mingyu asks, grinning, pawing through the clothes in front of him. Jihoon chuckles, shrugging.

"I play games sometimes when I'm not busy," he says, though he can't actually remember the last time he spent playing anything that wasn't installed on his phone. Mingyu nods his head, and Jihoon narrows his eyes. "No."

"No, what?" Mingyu asks, his hand stilling.

"No," Jihoon repeats, shaking his head. "No buying me anything."

"Hyung!" Mingyu whines, pulling his hand away from the clothes. "I didn't say anything about that."

"You're fishing," he says, smirking. Mingyu's hardly going to be the world's next great con-man with the poker face he has. "Don't get me anything."

"I wanna get you something, though," Mingyu says, sorting through the clothes in front of him again. "We're friends."

It would be impolite to point out that Mingyu only wants to buy him a present because the two of them are fucking in a public place, so Jihoon refrains. Instead, he fixes Mingyu with a glare, shaking his head.

"You gave me a haircut," he says after a moment, running his thumb over the lid of his coffee. "That's plenty."

"That's not a gift!" Mingyu says, shaking his head hard like Jihoon is being absolutely ridiculous about the whole thing. "And that was weeks ago."

"It was a decent haircut," Jihoon says, shrugging and wandering to the next rack. "So that's my present."

"That's not a present," Mingyu says, trailing along, sulking now. Jihoon sighs, but he refuses to budge on the subject. He's not much for presents-- giving or receiving. Giving them always makes him feel a little foolish; especially because he's rarely confident he's actually giving someone something that they'll use or even _like_.

But being given gifts is even worse. Jihoon isn't good with any overt kind of affection, and getting presents given to him just makes him feel awkward.

Mingyu sighs like Jihoon has already spent the whole day tormenting him, leaning his weight against Jihoon's back. "Please let me get you something?"

"It's not like I can stop you," Jihoon grumbles, jabbing his elbow into Mingyu's side. Mingyu yelps, but it tapers off into a laugh, his arms wrapping around Jihoon's sides and squeezing him.

"Then tell me what you want," he says, letting go before Jihoon has a chance to scold him. Jihoon scowls, glaring and carefully stepping out of Mingyu's considerable reach.

"I don't want anything," he says, pulling out a shirt that looks to him like something Jeonghan might wear.

"You have to want _something_ ," Mingyu says, playing with the short hairs at the back of Jihoon's head. "Is there a CD or something you want?"

"Not really," Jihoon says, hardly taking the time to think about it. Mingyu sighs, and he's leaning close enough that Jihoon can feel the warmth of it on the back of his neck. He puts the shirt back, plucking at his scarf with a frown.

"You should get him one of these," Jihoon says, holding up the end of his scarf. Mingyu blinks, reaching out and petting it, smiling.

"It's soft. Cute," he says, chuckling. Jihoon drops his hand, sighing.

"This one was Jeonghan-hyung's anyway," he says, walking toward the accessories instead. "So at least I know he needs one."

"Why don't you just give him his scarf back?" Mingyu asks, grinning. Jihoon shakes his head.

"Because I like this scarf," he says, grinning, pointing at a display holding scarves. "He likes matching sets, too."

"Do you want something that goes with yours?" Mingyu asks, grabbing a bright blue beanie and sticking it on Jihoon's head. Jihoon glares up at him, pulling it off quickly.

"No, I don't want a hat," he says, shoving the cap back against Mingyu's chest. "Besides, you gotta worry about Jeonghan-hyung first anyway."

"Alright," Mingyu says, putting the hat back and looking at the scarves instead. Jihoon joins him, pointing out the few that he'd probably have picked out himself to give to Jeonghan.

Mingyu settles, after far too much debate, on one striped with different shades of pink and blue, and a hat that matches, with an obnoxiously large pink pom pom sewn to the top of it. Jihoon flicks the pom pom with a chuckle, nodding his head.

"He'll like that," he says, feeling more certain of himself than usual. Maybe it's because Mingyu will be the one giving the gift, and so if Jeonghan does hate it, Jihoon won't have to spend the rest of his life hearing about it.

Mingyu nods, walking up to the counter to pay with Jihoon following after him. "Did you decide on what you want yet?"

Jihoon sighs, shoving Mingyu for the question. Mingyu yelps once more, stumbling and catching himself against the counter, narrowly managing to avoid falling flat on his face. Jihoon can't help but laugh, even when Mingyu looks back at him with betrayal written across his face.

It gives way quickly into sulking, which only makes Jihoon laugh more. "You're such a bully, Jihoon-hyung."

"It's not my fault you have no balance," Jihoon says, once he's gone from full out cackling to giggling to himself. "It wouldn't be so easy to push you around if you knew how to walk."

Mingyu sighs, finishing paying, shaking his head. "A bully."

"You'll live," Jihoon says, patting Mingyu on the arm. They leave, with a bag hanging from Mingyu's wrist containing the present. Jihoon drops his empty coffee cup into a trash can standing outside the store and Mingyu does the same.

"Have you eaten yet?" Mingyu asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I had breakfast," Jihoon says, aware that the typical timeframe for breakfast passed them by hours ago.

"We should get lunch," Mingyu says, patting his stomach with one hand. "There's a good chicken place near here."

"Alright," Jihoon says since he's always in the mood to eat anyway.

"That'll give you more time to think of a present, too," Mingyu says, a cheeky smile on his face. Jihoon sighs, swatting at his shoulder half-heartedly. He's going to have to come up with _something_ , it seems since Mingyu is a dog with a bone about the idea of giving Jihoon something.

Worse, it means he's going to have to come up with something that he can give Mingyu, since getting a gift and not getting one just seems rude.

The place Mingyu picks for lunch _is_ nice, and Jihoon eats what amounts to his entire body weight in fried chicken, leaving Mingyu staring at him like he's totally insane.

"I forgot how big your appetite is," Mingyu says, poking at one of the bones in front of him, his voice bordered on awe. Jihoon smirks back at him.

"Good thing you're not taking me on a date," he says, screwing the cap off his coke. "I could empty someone's wallet at a place like this.

"Yeah," Mingyu says, laughing a beat too late. "Good thing."

They pay for their food, and Jihoon is glad to spot a store with decent looking phone cases in the front window. "Those aren't bad."

"Yeah?" Mingyu says, leaning over to look at them, his hand on Jihoon's shoulder. "Wanna go in?"

Jihoon shrugs, but walks in the door, tucking his hands into his pockets.

It's as good a moment as any to remind himself that it _is_ a good thing that he's not on a date with Mingyu.

"What about that one?" He says, pointing to a plain black case that's hardly any different than the one he has on his phone already. Mingyu gives him a look like he's about to start whining about how impossible Jihoon is. "Alright. Not that one."

"How about this?" Mingyu asks, holding up one with a cartoon dog printed on it. Jihoon pulls a face.

"That's like a kid's one," he says, laughing.

"It's cute!" Mingyu says, holding it out in front of him. "And you'd look cute with it. Don't you like dogs, Jihoon-hyung?"

For a second, Jihoon thinks of all the ways that Mingyu tends to remind him of an over excited puppy.

Then he frowns, shaking his head and shoving Mingyu's hands away. "No."

"You're so mean," Mingyu says, though he doesn't sound as put out as usually by Jihoon's attitude. “Dogs are the best.”

“I’m a cat person,” Jihoon says, shaking his head and turning back to the shelf in front of him. Mingyu chuckles, setting the case back down and resting his hand lightly on the back of Jihoon’s neck.

For a long moment, Jihoon doesn’t even notice it, turning the display of phone cases and staring up at them. Mingyu’s fingers curl slightly at the nape of his neck, and Jihoon blinks as he realizes it, not sure if he should duck out of the contact or just… let it be.

“What about headphones!” Mingyu says suddenly, and Jihoon jumps in surprise, turning to look up at him and shaking his head.

“What about them?” He says, even as Mingyu’s fingers latch around his wrist, pulling him along.

“They have some over here— and you said you like music stuff,” Mingyu says, and Jihoon sighs, following after without letting Mingyu pull him off of his feet. There’s indeed a long display of headphones, and Mingyu picks up the closest display pair, putting them on Jihoon’s head with a wide grin.

Jihoon tilts his chin up, looking up at Mingyu, fighting the urge to smile when Mingyu does his best to adjust the headphones on his head.

“What’d you think?” Mingyu says, his voice sounding muffled.

“They’re big,” Jihoon says, chuckling softly to himself. “These are more like my studio headphones.”

“You have more than one pair?” Mingyu asks, lowering the headphones from Jihoon’s head, laying them around his neck. Jihoon laughs, nodding his head.

“Well yeah. Earbuds aren’t much help when you’re mixing.”

“So these are good, right?” Mingyu asks, and the look on his face is so bright and enthusiastic that even Jihoon doesn’t want to shoot him down.

“Yeah, these are good,” Jihoon says, taking the display pair off his neck and laying them back down. “But if you get pink I’ll kill you.”

“You do threaten that a lot,” Mingyu says, bending over and grabbing a box, tilting it carefully so Jihoon can’t see it. “You don’t get them until after Christmas.”

“What’s the point of that?” Jihoon asks, chasing after Mingyu and grabbing at his arm. “Just give them to me now.”

“Then it won’t be special!” Mingyu says, shaking Jihoon off gently. “So you have to wait.”

“You make no sense to me,” Jihoon says, sighing and letting him go. “Fine, I’ll go stand outside in the cold.”

“Good plan,” Mingyu says, laughing as Jihoon walks outside.

Jihoon shakes his head, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking over his shoulder. He can see Mingyu standing at the counter through the shop windows, and he pauses for a moment, watching him checking out.

He realizes he’s smiling before Mingyu turns around and wipes the expression off his face before he has a chance to get caught.

There’s no point to it, after all. When Mingyu walks out, clutching the bag childishly against his chest, Jihoon shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s fun,” Mingyu says, adjusting the hat on his head. “What about ice cream?”

“Coffee,” Jihoon says, shaking his head. “I need something warm.”

“Alright,” Mingyu says, his hand resting on the small of Jihoon’s back. Jihoon pauses, glancing back, but this time he decides not to say anything about it, letting Mingyu hold onto them as they go.


	6. make war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s an odd thing to realize so suddenly— but all the times he’s kissed Jihoon, he’s never really kissed Jihoon. Not in a way that means anything.
> 
> He wants to kiss Jihoon now— for real. He wants to kiss him and have it really mean something. Mingyu chews the inside of his cheek, staring at the screen without really seeing anything. He’s loathe to admit that he’s gotten himself in over his head where Jihoon is concerned. It’s not like he wasn’t warned; nor did he forget that he’s always been someone to fall too fast and too hard.
> 
> But, it seems like he’s too late to save himself at this point. It’s started to feel like his heart is expanding too large for his ribs to contain; like it’s about to break free of his chest at any moment.

Mingyu sighs, for probably the tenth time in the last twenty minutes, staring at the flyer he's meant to be designing. There's a sketch of what he was planning laying in front of him, the page torn out of his notebook, wrinkled and smoothed out again. But, no matter what he tries, everything just looks wrong. 

With another dramatic sigh, he reaches for a pencil and his notebook, intent on starting over. From his seat, he can see Jihoon seated behind the front desk of the library, a frown on his face, burrowed into the fabric of his over sized hoodie. 

He looks tired, but that's not saying much. He's looked tired for a week, and his temper had been steadily worsening along with it. Mingyu looks back at the paper in front of him, drumming his fingers for a moment before smiling, starting to write on it in big, messy letters.

Seokmin looks at him, tilting one eyebrow upward. “Inspiration finally hit?”

“Nah,” Mingyu says, finishing his message and tearing the page out. Aware of Seokmin watching him now, he starts folding the paper into a small plane, brow furrowed in focus. It's been a long time since he's made one of these, and several times he has to stop and restart. By the end, Seokmin is stifling his laughter as Mingyu tosses his creation over to Jihoon’s desk. 

It falls just short, and Mingyu ducks his head as soon as Jihoon leans over to pick it up, pretending to still be focused on his computer. He glances up in time for Jihoon to glare at him, throwing it back. 

Seokmin laughs and Mingyu shakes his head, grabbing it and writing **Open Me** in giant letters on both wings before throwing it back. This time Jihoon looks at the plane with a sigh, unfolding it with an annoyed look on his face. He only takes a moment to read what Mingyu has written inside before looking up again. 

The glare he sends in Mingyu’s direction is withering, and when their eyes meet, Jihoon tears the paper in half. Mingyu gapes at him, shocked, while Seokmin hides his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Jihoon rips the paper into strips, gathering them in one hand before hopping off of his tall stool and walking over. 

He holds the torn paper out to Mingyu, his lips pressed into a flat line. “Eat it.”

“Hyung! I can't do that,” Mingyu says, whining, barely keeping the smile off of his face. Jihoon doesn't look amused, and he drops the strips of paper in front of Mingyu, shaking his head. 

Before Jihoon walks away, Mingyu takes hold of his wrist gently, fingers wrapping all the way around the slender bones of his arm. This time he does smile, looking up at Jihoon. “Are you okay?”

For a moment, Jihoon looks like he's contemplating chewing through his arm to get away from Mingyu, but after a second he softens just slightly. His shoulders sag a little, and without thinking Mingyu rubs tiny circles into the thin skin of his wrist. “Just a lot of work lately.”

“Will you yell at me if I suggest a break?” Mingyu says, and Jihoon frowns at him. “Okay, what if I suggest a movie with us this weekend?”

“Us?” Jihoon asks, and Mingyu nods at Seokmin, dutifully pretending he's studying and not listening to their conversation. 

“The two of us and Minghao,” Mingyu says, letting go of Jihoon reluctantly. “Probably Soonyoung, I guess.”

“He said he would come,” Seokmin says, smiling easily. “But it's Minghao’s turn to pick, so it'll probably be one of those dramatic Chinese romance films.”

“Somehow that still sounds better than that crime movie you picked last time,” Mingyu says, shaking his head sadly. He can see Jihoon weighing his options, probably thinking about whatever he has due. He tugs Jihoon’s sleeve, grabbing his attention. “It'll be fun. And if it's really bad Soonyoung and Seokmin will make out until Minghao leaves.”

“That's gross,” Jihoon says but the corners of his lips are lifted into a smile. 

“It's a sacrifice I'm glad to make,” Seokmin says, pressing his hand to his chest. “Even if he does kick me out of my own room for it.”

“Fine,” Jihoon says after thinking it over for another moment. “But if it sucks I’m going home.”

Seokmin claps his hands together once and Mingyu laughs, nodding his head, leaning his elbows on the table. There’s an itching urge under his skin to reach out and touch Jihoon again; to take his hand or even to tug him closer and kiss him on the cheek. But Mingyu does his best to ignore it, curling his hands close to his chest. He doesn’t have the kind of relationship with Jihoon that means those kinds of small things belong to him; he doesn’t even have the kind of relationship with Jihoon that Jeonghan does; even if Jihoon complains about how touchy Jeonghan is, he endures it. Sometimes he even smiles about it. 

Jihoon smacks the back of Mingyu’s head, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make him jolt out of his thoughts. “No more throwing trash around.”

“It wasn’t trash!” He whines, picking at the shredded remains of his note, trying not to grin. Jihoon rolls his eyes, walking back to the desk to help out a girl waiting with a book at the counter. Mingyu smiles down at his hands for a moment, even though he can feel Seokmin staring at him. When Mingyu looks up, Seokmin has both his eyebrows lifted, the grin on his face stretching a little wider.

“Don’t start,” Mingyu says, keeping his voice low. He feels silly for it, pulling his homework toward him once more.

“Start what?” Seokmin asks, though the look on his face is hardly an innocent one. “Passing you love notes?”

Mingyu groans, balling his sketch up once more and throwing it at Seokmin’s head. The paper bounces harmlessly off his forehead, and Seokmin laughs.

“It wasn’t a love note,” Mingyu says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He starts drawing out a new design, though he should know better than to expect Seokmin to simply drop it.

“Right, because you two are casual,” Seokmin says, nodding dutifully. “Was it a booty call note?”

“Oh my god,” Mingyu says, groaning. “It wasn’t anything.”

He sighs, picking up his phone, doing his best to ignore Seokmin still giggling at him. It works until Seokmin snatches the phone away, flipping it over ant looking at the cartoon puppy on the back.

“This is cute,” he says, poking the dog’s face. “When did you get it?”

“It was a present,” Mingyu says, looking down at his sketch, trying not to make a face. Seokmin nods, handing it back over.

“Minghao? I know he got Chan that raptor one,” Seokmin says, and Mingyu’s shoulders curl slightly inward, trying to make himself a smaller target.

“Nah,” he says, sighing internally. He could avoid telling, but that will only make Seokmin think there’s actually something for him to hide between him and Jihoon. There isn’t, so it makes no sense to start trying now. “Jihoon-hyung gave it to me.”

Mingyu elects to ignore the face Seokmin makes at him for that, choosing instead to double check the dimensions he’s supposed to be using for his homework.

“And you’re definitely not dating him?” He asks after a moment, and Mingyu sighs.

“Why? Did you and Minghao make a bet on it?” He asks, snapping more than he means to.

“No, but it’s sort of obvious at this point,” Seokmin says, and the teasing tone Mingyu expects to hear is gone from his voice. His face is serious as well when Mingyu looks up at him. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk to him about,” Mingyu says, shaking his head. “No strings.”

“If you say it isn’t a big deal one more time I’m gonna let Minghao hit you,” Seokmin says, his mouth lifting into a smile. “You _should_ say something.”

“I’m really okay with it,” Mingyu says, though the words don’t feel quite true in his mouth. “Maybe I don’t want something serious either.”

“Do you have a fever?” He asks, pressing the back of his hand to Mingyu’s forehead. Mingyu laughs, shoving Seokmin’s hand away.

“Really!” He says, though he can’t help but grin. Seokmin tends to have that effect on whoever he spends time with.

It would be a lie to say he hasn’t thought about dating Jihoon— but it’s clear that Jihoon isn’t looking for anything like that, or at least not with Mingyu. Mingyu signed up for something casual, after all, he’s not upset with the way things are now. For now, everything is good. But he’s pretty sure that saying so will only make Seokmin worry more.

“Read your—” Mingyu pauses, lifting the cover of Seokmin’s book. “Fundamentals of Teaching in Secondary Education and leave me alone.”

Seokmin laughs, pulling the book back toward him, shaking his head. “Fine, but I stand by what I said.”

“Alright. Now tell me why this looks so ugly,” Mingyu says, pushing his laptop toward Seokmin.

**{* * *}**

“Okay, I’m lost,” Soonyoung says, for perhaps the fifteenth time since the movie started. Mingyu can hardly blame him for it— he’s not sure what exactly is going on either. They’re in their usual spots; Soonyoung and Seokmin occupying the bed, with Soonyoung leaning his back on the wall and Seokmin laying back against him, and Minghao and Mingyu stretched out on the floor. Jihoon is tucked against Mingyu’s side, making the most of the limited space left on Seokmin’s floor.

“I thought that guy was her brother?” Soonyoung asks, his cheek laying on top of Seokmin’s head.

“No, that guy is the princess’s bodyguard,” Minghao says, getting more and more annoyed with their questions. Jihoon laughs softly.

“I thought that guy was the fox mask guy,” he says, low and close to Mingyu’s ear. Mingyu grins, reaching over and tugging on Jihoon’s hand. Jihoon glances at him before letting Mingyu pull his hand into his lap.

“Alright, so _that_ guy is her brother, right?” Mingyu asks, leaning toward Jihoon. He pauses for a moment, the light from the screen is bright across Jihoon’s face, and his tongue is poking out of the corner of his mouth the way it does when he’s focused.

“I think so,” Jihoon says, glancing down at his hand. Mingyu hadn’t even noticed himself toying with Jihoon’s fingers, and he quickly untangles their hands, the back of his neck feeling warm. “How many of these movies are there?”

“Five,” Mingyu says, doing his best not to laugh at the face Jihoon pulls. He hasn’t taken his hand back, and so Mingyu resumes playing with his fingers, trying his best to pay attention to the movie.

It’s another half hour, marked mostly by all of them confusing the characters until even Minghao sounds unsure of his answers, and Jihoon has started drifting off with his head pillowed on Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu smiles a little, leaning his cheek against the top of Jihoon’s head, supporting his weight. He’s glad both for the dark room and the confusing movie, because it means that no one else has noticed the two of them.

It would be nice if he could just hold Jihoon’s hand or wrap an arm around his shoulder while he sleeps. There’s an unexpected tug in the center of Mingyu’s chest at the thought. It’s an odd thing to realize so suddenly— but all the times he’s kissed Jihoon, he’s never _really_ kissed Jihoon. Not in a way that means anything.

He wants to kiss Jihoon now— for real. He wants to kiss him and have it really mean something. Mingyu chews the inside of his cheek, staring at the screen without really seeing anything. He’s loathe to admit that he’s gotten himself in over his head where Jihoon is concerned. It’s not like he wasn’t warned; nor did he forget that he’s always been someone to fall too fast and too hard.

But, it seems like he’s too late to save himself at this point. It’s started to feel like his heart is expanding too large for his ribs to contain; like it’s about to break free of his chest at any moment. He bites harder on the inside of his cheek, until his mouth tastes metallic. None of this does him any good to think about; Jihoon said from the start that he didn’t want any kind of real relationship, and Mingyu knows now that he’s not someone who changes his mind easily.

It doesn’t stop his stupid traitor heart, of course. Jihoon shifts his head a little, more of his weight leaning on Mingyu as he drifts off further, and Mingyu shifts his arm to wrap around Jihoon’s back rather than leaving it to fall asleep trapped between them. The motion isn’t enough to make Jihoon stir but Minghao glances frowning at them. Mingyu tries to pretend he didn’t notice.

As much as he’d like to pretend he still has control of the situation, his grip is starting to seem more and more tenuous. Jihoon groans softly against Mingyu’s shoulder, a scream from the movie waking him up again. He blinks at Mingyu, his eyelids heavy, looking between Mingyu’s face and the screen. “Who is the princess with?”

“We’re down to the guard and the fox mask guy,” Mingyu whispers, smiling softly when Jihoon yawns, nodding his head.

“I like the mask guy,” he mumbles, pulling his hand out of Mingyu’s lap to rub at his eyes. It’s only then he notices Mingyu’s arm around his back. He leans forward, looking at his arm for a moment before just settling back into place. Mingyu shifts, trying to find the most comfortable spot, his fingers lingering on the outside of Jihoon’s hip.

“How much longer is this?” Jihoon asks, his head leaning on Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu shrugs, careful not to jostle him too much.

“They’re supposed to have a duel for her or something,” Mingyu says, his mouth close to Jihoon’s forehead as he leans in. “So I think it’s over after that.”

“Right,” Jihoon says, yawning again. “Is the king dead yet?”

“Oh my god,” Mingyu gasps, looking back at the screen. “I forgot about the king.”

Jihoon laughs, his voice still a little scratchy with sleep, and Mingyu’s heart falters in his chest like its’ suddenly forgotten what to do. Jihoon’s cheek rubs against Mingyu’s shoulder, humming as he watches the action on the screen.

“I don’t get these movies,” Jihoon mumbles, while the two male leads fight.

“Historical ones?” Mingyu asks, squeezing one of his hands around Jihoon’s knee. Jihoon shakes his head slowly.

“No, just— all the romance stuff,” Jihoon says, chuckling. “It’s just so much hassle.”

“It’s worth it sometimes, though,” Mingyu says, without really meaning to. Jihoon shrugs, his smile going softer than before.

“I guess,” he says, his gaze lingering on Mingyu’s face for a long moment before he looks at the screen again. Mingyu does his best to ignore the rabbit quick pace of his own heart.

The two of them are quiet for the rest of the movie, save for Jihoon scoffing when the princess ends up kissing the bodyguard dramatically. Minghao doesn’t bother to wait for their reviews, standing up to reclaim his DVD.

“That’s it?” Soonyoung asks after a long minute, still clutching Seokmin against his chest. “What about the king? Does the marry the fox guy’s sister?”

“You gotta watch the other ones,” Minghao says, turning the lights back on. Soonyoung shakes Seokmin’s shoulder with a frown.

“We need to watch the next one,” he says, staring down at Seokmin seriously. Seokmin laughs, shaking his head.

“Mingyu picks next, ask him,” he says, his head lolling back on Soonyoung’s shoulder. Trapped as he is, Soonyoung can only shoot pleading looks at Mingyu.

“Please, Mingyu-ya? If you pick it I’ll drag Wonwoo out so you have the place to yourself,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively with the offer. Mingyu’s face feels hot, and next to him, Jihoon goes stiff, turning to glare at Soonyoung. The glare doesn’t seem to phase him in the least and he continues pouting at Mingyu. “Seokminnie won’t even let me have a turn, so it’s only fair.”

“Fine, we can watch the second one next time,” Mingyu says, sighing dramatically as he gives in. Soonyoung celebrates by smacking a kiss on Seokmin’s cheek and shooting Mingyu a thumbs up.

“Good! I’ll get you your alone time!” He says, yelping when Jihoon lobs a pillow at his head.

“Shut up,” he snaps. and Soonyoung ducks to hide behind Seokmin.

“No one said you had to be there,” he says, holding on tighter as Seokmin tries to escape.

“Hyung! You can’t use me as a shield!” He whines, though the effect is ruined by his laughter.

“You have to protect me!” Soonyoung says, burrowing his face in Seokmin’s shoulder. “Jihoon-ah is so scary when he’s mad.”

“I’m gonna come up there and kill you,” Jihoon says, wiggling free from Mingyu’s limbs. Soonyoung yelps, clinging on tighter to Seokmin’s chest.

“When he kills me, remember I loved you, babe,” Soonyoung says, and Seokmin laughs again, looking up at Jihoon with pleading eyes.

“Please don’t kill my boyfriend,” he says, sticking his lower lip out in a pout. He barely manages to hold back his grin, switching to the old man voice he’s only recently perfected. “We’ve been together for sixty years and I’m still waiting to get married.”

“You’re both insane,” Jihoon says, shaking his head. He tries to take his seat again, careful to avoid the giggling pile of Mingyu and Minghao on the floor.

Soonyoung peeks his head out once he’s sure it’s safe, glaring at the two of them. “Some friends you are.”

“Sorry,” Mingyu says, sitting up with a grin. “I’m not getting in his way.”

“I’d rather see him beat you up,” Minghao says, a wide grin on his face. Soonyoung pouts at both of them, resting his chin on Seokmin’s shoulder. Seokmin laughs, ruffling Soonyoung’s hair.

There’s another one of those longing pangs in the middle of Mingyu’s chest, and the looks down at his phone rather than watching the two of them. For a moment he thinks Jihoon might have noticed, because he stares for a moment before looking at his phone at well. But then his phone buzzes with an incoming message.

>> _come back with me_

Jihoon doesn’t look over after he sends the text and Mingyu hopes his face hasn’t gone red. He licks his lips, watching Jihoon stand and grab his coat.

“Alright, I’ve got work to do,” he says, bending over to slide his shoes on. Soonyoung detaches himself from Seokmin finally, both his eyebrows lifted.

“You ate, right?” He asks, and Jihoon rolls his eyes before nodding.

“Yeah, I had dinner,” he says and Mingyu catches the small smile that only reaches half his face. Mingyu hesitates before he stands as well, grabbing his things.

“I’ll walk with you,” he says, ignoring that he and Jihoon have to go in opposite directions. Everyone else seems happy to ignore it as well. It doesn’t stop Mingyu’s nervous desire to make some sort of excuse to try and make it seem like they aren’t just leaving to go have sex.

He follows Jihoon outside, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile. “Did you have fun?”

He isn’t sure why he asks. He feels strangely like he doesn’t know how to conduct himself around Jihoon. Mingyu hasn’t left this awkward around Jihoon in months— there’s no reason to. For his prickly exterior, Jihoon isn’t that hard to get along with. He’s smart, and funny when he’s in the mood to be.

Even now, Jihoon looks at him with a smile and a small nod, like he’s reluctant to admit he had a good time. He isn’t cold, isn’t awkward at all. That’s because things are only different for Mingyu. The thing that swells up in his chest when Jihoon unlocks the door is only a problem for Mingyu.

This something— this feeling, whatever it is, belongs to Mingyu alone.

**{* * *}**

But it’s harder to keep to himself than he thought. He feels like he’s repeating his first time with Jihoon all over again— only without the booze and adrenaline to help him along. He’s fumbled his own clothes off down to his underwear, and he’s seated on the bed with Jihoon in his lap, wearing just his underwear and a loose shirt. Jihoon’s hands are holding onto this bare shoulders, head tilted back to let Mingyu kiss his neck, hands wandering under his shirt.

Mingyu, as flustered as he feels, wants nothing more than to properly take his time with Jihoon for once— to truly explore and find out what really makes him feel good. So far, Jihoon hasn’t barked at him to hurry up and Mingyu keeps things slow. His hand skims up Jihoon’s side, feeling the slight bumps of his ribs and the way his chest expands slightly with each breath.

He presses his mouth along the angle of Jihoon’s collarbone, following it to the collar of his shirt before tracing up the other side of his neck. Mingyu pulls his hand off of Jihoon’s side, pushing his shirt up and kissing the center of his chest, one hand resting on Jihoon’s back, fingers spread wide apart to feel as much of Jihoon’s skin as he can.

One of Jihoon’s hands leaves his shoulder, fingers sliding through Mingyu’s hair. Mingyu pauses, expecting to be pulled into a kiss or hurried along. But Jihoon’s fingers stroke through his hair, his back arching toward the next kiss Mingyu lays on his chest, a shaking breath falling out of his mouth. Mingyu doesn’t take the time to wonder at the why of what they’re both doing— he presses his mouth to Jihoon’s chest again, teeth digging in next to the hardened bud of Jihoon’s nipple. Jihoon gasps quietly and pressed so close Mingyu can feel the shudder that trembles along his spine.

Mingyu’s mouth closes over Jihoon’s nipple, tongue circling around it. Jihoon makes a quiet, choked off noise, his fingers tightening in Mingyu’s hair. Mingyu bites down gently, his hand at Jihoon’s back keeping him steady. The other comes up to Jihoon’s other nipple, rolling it under his thumb. Jihoon makes another small sound, his hips rolling forward, grinding his clothed cock against Mingyu’s. Mingyu groans in response, the sound muffled against the skin of Jihoon’s chest.

He drags the tip of his tongue around Jihoon’s nipple again before detaching his mouth, leaving the skin shining and wet.

When he looks up, Jihoon is staring back at him; eyes glazed, lips parted. His lower lip is swollen from being bitten and there’s an unfamiliar sort of hunger in his eyes. Mingyu has the strangest urge to tell Jihoon that he’s beautiful. He’s certain that saying that kind of thing isn’t covered under _‘no strings attached’,_ so he tries to imprint that feeling into Jihoon’s skin instead. His hands slide along the curve of his waist, touch soft, approaching reverent in a way he knows he shouldn’t but still can’t seem to stop.

Jihoon pulls softly on his hair, tugging Mingyu into a kiss that’s slow and lingering, their lips melting together. Jihoon rocks his hips forward once more, grinding slow and insistent against Mingyu’s thigh. Mingyu cups a hand at his waist, rolling his hips up in return. Jihoon sighs into his mouth at the welcome friction.

One of Mingyu’s hands cups gently around the swell of Jihoon’s ass, squeezing it. He can feel Jihoon’s mouth lift into a smile against his own, stroking his fingers through Mingyu’s hair.

He twists in Mingyu’s lap, his back bending elegantly as he reaches behind him, batting his pillow onto the floor to reach under it, grabbing the bottle of lube from the space between the mattress and the wall. Jihoon drops it into Mingyu’s waiting hand, the small smile still there on his face. Mingyu kisses his chest again, then his collarbone, the side of his neck and the swell of his shoulder. Behind his back, Mingyu opens the bottle, slicking his fingers before setting the bottle aside and pulling Jihoon’s underwear down around his thighs.

Jihoon’s hand tightens in Mingyu’s hair as Mingyu's fingers dip between his cheeks, massaging them around his rim until Jihoon pushes his hips back with a small whine, wanting. Mingyu pushes his finger in more slowly than he needs to, still peppering small kisses against Jihoon's neck. There are the beginnings of a furrow in Jihoon's brow, his usual impatience starting to show on his face. 

Mingyu kisses him again, hoping to ease some of it. He doesn't want this to be over quickly; regardless of Jihoon's tendency to rush straight to the end. He trusts his finger slowly several times before adding the second one. Jihoon gasps quietly, rolling his hips back on Mingyu's fingers, trying to push them deeper.

He keeps thrusting them slowly, holding Jihoon's hip in his other hand to keep him from squirming too much, curling his fingers to rub the pads of them against Jihoon's prostate. Jihoon tilts his head to the side, Mingyu biting the side of his jaw as he whines, nails digging small crescents into Mingyu's shoulder. Jihoon's hand drops out of his hair, arm draped over his back, pressing the two of them together chest to chest as Jihoon relies on Mingyu to hold himself up. His cock brushes against Mingyu's stomach when he grinds his hips backward, leaving a slick trail of precome behind it.

Tightening his grip on Jihoon's hip, Mingyu presses another finger in, sucking a small mark at the corner of Jihoon's jaw. Jihoon groans, low and close to his ear, his eyes closed now. "God, Mingyu. C'mon."

His voice comes out tight and strained, and Mingyu curls his fingers in once again, pressing all three of them against Jihoon's prostate. The quick pants of Jihoon's breath are close to his ear and each one comes out with a soft ‘ah’ attached to it, his arms wrapping tighter around Mingyu’s neck, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

Mingyu slides his fingers out slowly, biting the lobe of Jihoon’s ear when he whines at the loss. He shifts his hips up, careful not to drop Jihoon out of his lap, shoving his underwear down as well. Jihoon lifts himself up slightly, licking his lips and adjusting himself in Mingyu’s lap. Mingyu grabs the bottle again, pressing his face against Jihoon’s shoulder as he slicks lube over his cock, groaning into his skin.

Jihoon unlatches one hand from Mingyu’s shoulder, sliding it between them to grasp Mingyu’s cock, guiding it as he lowers his hips. Mingyu’s hands tighten around his thighs as Jihoon slides down on his cock slowly, lips parted around a long groan. Mingyu mirrors the sound, arching his hips up until he slides in all the way. Jihoon’s head falls forward, his chin resting against his chest, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he adjusts to the stretch of Mingyu inside him. 

His arm tightens around Mingyu’s neck, using his grasp for leverage and rocking his hips slowly. Mingyu keeps his grip tight on Jihoon’s thighs, pressing closer, clinging Jihoon’s body close to his. He presses his lips against Jihoon’s forehead, thrusting his hips up. Jihoon is hot and tight around him, and Mingyu wants to feel as much of his body as he can. Lifting his hips until only the head of Mingyu’s dick is still inside of him, Jihoon slides down once again.

Mingyu can feel the muscles of Jihoon’s thighs flexing under his hands as he picks up a slow rhythm, sliding all the way down onto Mingyu’s lap each time, fingers digging hard into Mingyu’s shoulders. Mingyu groans, his arms sliding up to wrap around Jihoon’s back. He shifts, planting his feet on the bed, using the leverage to thrust up into Jihoon, doing his best to match the pace already set, pulling Jihoon tight against his chest.

He kisses Jihoon, tongue sliding over his. Mingyu wonders if Jihoon can feel how hard his heart is beating with hos close they’re pressed together. Jihoon shifts the angle of his hips, seeking, his back arching with a whine when he finds the angle he’s looking for. He grinds himself down on Mingyu’s cock, the head of it pressing again and again into his prostate ad Mingyu thrusts his hips.

Jihoon’s lips are parted, his mouth slack as he returns Mingyu’s kiss messily, more focused on fucking himself down on Mingyu’s cock. Mingyu unwraps one of his arms carefully, leaning back enough to wrap his hand around Jihoon’s cock. Jihoon whines high in his throat, tilting his head back between his shoulders.

The pace of Mingyu’s hand is at odds with the speed of Jihoon bouncing in his lap, but Jihoon hardly seems bothered by it. His shoulders tense, hunching himself over with his thighs shaking from the effort. Mingyu keeps one of his arms around Jihoon’s back, rubbing it and supporting some of his weight. His hand tightens around Jihoon’s cock, mouth against his neck once again, biting at the salty skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

With a whimper, Jihoon comes, his rim fluttering around Mingyu’s cock, settling himself all the way down in Mingyu’s lap. Mingyu groans, sparks exploding behind his eyes, his hips lifting in an effort to bury himself even deeper. Jihoon mumbles a string of unintelligible curses, panting unevenly as Mingyu strokes him through his orgasm.

It’s a struggle to keep his hips still, to avoid pushing Jihoon too far. He bites down on Jihoon’s shoulder instead, gripping around Jihoon’s back more tightly. His hips move in tiny, half-aborted thrusts, nudging his cock deeper each time.

After a moment that feels like it lasts forever, Jihoon rolls his hips carefully, hissing as he does. Mingyu groans, gripping Jihoon’s thigh in surprise.

“Ah— wait,” he says, voice strained. Jihoon shakes his head, kissing him, stroking Mingyu’s sweaty bangs away from his face.

It’s fine,” he says softly, rolling his hips once again. Mingyu raises to meet him this time, kissing him more deeply than before. It only takes a few more thrusts before he comes as well, gasping into the open space of Jihoon’s mouth, eyes tightly closed.

He slides out when he’s finished, laying back on the bed carefully and pulling Jihoon with him. Jihoon lays on his chest, still struggling to catch his breath, and Mingyu looks down at him with a wide, loose smile. He toys with the ends of Jihoon’s hair.

“You should let me trim this soon,” he says, running his fingers through the damp strands to check the length of it.

“It’s getting late,” Jihoon says, shaking his head to dislodge Mingyu’s hand. He rolls off of Mingyu’s chest, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head, his back to Mingyu. “You should get back.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, agreeing despite how reluctant he is to actually do so. He sits up slowly, reaching out without thinking, his hand resting lightly on Jihoon’s side. He leans in, dropping kisses along the line of Jihoon’s shoulder, under his ear, to his cheek. When Jihoon turns toward him, probably to scold or ask what Mingyu thinks he’s doing, Mingyu kisses his lips as well.

They stay like that for a moment, Jihoon’s fingers curling softly into the sheet, kissing Mingyu back. It’s soft, more tender than it has any right to be, and when he pulls back Mingyu can’t help the wide grin on his face. Jihoon stares back at him, his lips parted slightly still, like he’s not certain how to react.

Mingyu stands, getting dressed once again, looking back at Jihoon with a grin so wide his cheeks ache. “I’ll see you later, hyung.”

“Yeah, later,” Jihoon says, and before he shuts the door behind him, Mingyu catches sight of Jihoon pressing his fingers to his lips thoughtfully.

**{* * *}**

The offer to meet up with Jihoon for coffee after his afternoon lecture catches Mingyu by surprise. He’s definitely more excited about it than he should be; getting coffee with Jihoon isn’t exactly anything new. But something feels different, at least to Mingyu, and he almost leaves his class early just to get there a little quicker, though the boring lecture on fonts doesn’t exactly make him want to stay.

When he gets to the cafe, Jihoon is already there, the same worn expression that Mingyu’s gotten used to seeing stuck on his face. Mingyu smiles, taking the empty seat across from Jihoon. Jihoon jumps at the sound of the chair rattling, looking at Mingyu like it’s a surprise to see him there. The look fades after a moment, and he gives Mingyu a tired nod.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, watching Jihoon yawn into his baggy sleeve with a fond smile.

“Hi,” Jihoon says. He looks at Mingyu for just a second, his eyes falling back to the table.

“What’s up?” Mingyu asks, concern coloring his tone, leaning closer to Jihoon. “Everything okay, Jihoon-hyung?”

Jihoon frowns at the plastic top of the table for a long moment before sighing and lifting his head to look at Mingyu. “I think we should stop.”

“Stop?” Mingyu asks, though there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knows exactly what Jihoon is talking about.

“Seeing each other,” Jihoon says, his fingers wrapping around his coffee before releasing it again. Mingyu can remember Wonwoo at a party the year before calling him an expert at getting dumped. If that were true, Mingyu is sure he should at least have been able to see this coming. But, Mingyu is a poor excuse for an expert, and instead of respond he just stares at Jihoon with his mouth hanging open like a hooked fish.

Jihoon stares back, locking his lips before he continues. “I just don’t have the time for the stuff like this.”

He gestures at the empty space between them, sighing. “And it’s just casual, anyway.”

“Right,” Mingyu says, feeling like his mouth is stuffed full of cotton. Staying detached has never been his strong suit and that’s more clear now than ever. He feels less like he’s letting go of a casual arrangement and more like he’s left his heart in his trap that’s just snapped shut. “Um, okay.”

“Okay?” Jihoon repeats, and Mingyu can’t tell what kind of face he must be making. 

“Whatever you think is best, hyung,” Mingyu says, struggling to smile. His chest feels tight and he stares down at the table. He’s supposed to say something else, he’s sure, or do something, but his mind has gone blank and full of static. He nods his head, though the gesture feels empty. Jihoon’s chair screeches as he stands up and Mingyu flinches slightly at the sound, squeezing his hand around the edge of the table as he looks up at Jihoon.

“I’ll see you around, then,” he says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out sounding too tight. Jihoon hesitates, nodding his head after a moment and grabbing his drink off the table.

“Sure, later,” he says, waving weakly as he walks out.

Mingyu groans, dropping his forehead to the table after the door closes after Jihoon, squeezing his eyes shut. He doesn’t hear Seungcheol behind him, and so when his hand lands on Mingyu’s shoulder, he jumps, almost hitting his forehead against the table.

“Woah! You okay?” Seungcheol says, laughing as Mingyu sits up. It trails off when he looks at Mingyu’s face, his head tilting to the side.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, though his voice comes out sounding unsteady. He clears his throat again, trying to speak properly around the lump in his throat. “Really. I'm all good, hyung.”

“You don't look good,” Seungcheol says, crossing his arms over his chest. He has his apron tied around his waist, and with his patented Disapproving look, he reminds Mingyu of a displeased auntie.

Usually, the image would make him laugh but now Mingyu only cracks a weak smile. “I think I might be catching a cold.”

He doesn't like lying to Seungcheol, but it's easier than explaining the truth. Especially since as far as Mingyu knows, he doesn't have any idea about the arrangement that Mingyu had with Jihoon. 

Seungcheol scowls further, snatching Mingyu’s neglected coffee and sighing. “I'll make you some tea and then you should go home.”

“Alright,” Mingyu says, going along more easily than usual. He's glad for the easy exit, even if it means going home to probably face Wonwoo. 

He could try to hide out in the library, but as far as he knows, Jihoon will be there working, and the last thing Mingyu wants to do is go and pine for another boy who just dumped him. Mingyu watches Seungcheol’s back as he makes tea with quick, sure motions, chewing on his lower lip.

As a friend, Seungcheol has always been reliable and easy to talk to, and Mingyu is about to say something about Jihoon when he turns around again, holding the to go cup in his hand. “On me. Just go get some rest.”

Mingyu hesitates but quickly loses his nerve, taking the tea with a polite nod of his head. “Thanks, Seungcheol-hyung.”

“Don't mention it, and if you feel sick tomorrow call me before your shift,” he says, though his stern expression is already gone. Mingyu nods, feeling guilty all over again. 

“I'll be fine,” he says, forcing another smile before leaving. Once he's out the door, he slumps his shoulders, ducking his head low and hoping he won't run into anyone else who wants to talk. 

He's lucky enough on that front, but as soon as he opens the door to the apartment, he knows his luck has run out. Wonwoo is sitting on their couch, glasses on, nose buried in a book, and Junhui is stretched over the remaining space, his head pillowed on Wonwoo’s thighs. When he shuts the door and kicks his shoes off in a messy pile by the door, Wonwoo lifts his head, blinking owlishly like he's confused to see Mingyu there at all.

He frowns as soon as Mingyu looks at him.

“Break up face,” he says, dropping his book on Junhui’s face. Junhui yelps, sitting up and rubbing his forehead, knocking the book to the floor. 

“Ow? I was asleep, you bastard,” he says, wrinkling his nose at Wonwoo as he complains. Wonwoo clearly fights the urge to grin, poking the red mark on his forehead before looking back to Mingyu. 

“He's making the breakup face,” he says, and when Junhui turns to stare at him as well Mingyu would like nothing better than for the floor to swallow him up.

“I don't have a breakup face,” he says, though he hardly convinces himself. If anyone would know how to recognize when Mingyu has been freshly dumped it would have to be Wonwoo, after all. 

“Are you okay, Mingyu-ya?” Junhui asks, moving his legs off the couch.

“I'm fine,” he says, feeling a little defensive about it at this point. Wonwoo looks far from convinced, pointing to the empty space on the couch. Mingyu sighs as he sits down, facing the both of them. “I didn't get dumped.”

It's not a lie, at least not technically. 

“So it's just another short break?” Wonwoo snaps, frowning. Mingyu does as well, looking down at his lap. After a second, Wonwoo sighs. “I didn't mean it like that. Is it something with Jihoon?”

“There’s nothing with Jihoon,” Mingyu says, twisting his fingers around the hem of his shirt. He glances up to see Wonwoo roll his eyes.

“I get it. You’re not dating him,” he says, holding his hands up. “But you can tell me what’s up.”

“No I mean there’s nothing going on,” Mingyu says, looking up and scratching the back of his head. “We’re done with— whatever it was.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo says, leaning back on the couch. Junhui glances between the two of them, lifting his eyebrows.

“Do you want me to go?”

“Are you just gonna go tell Minghao?” Mingyu says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because if you are then you have to stay.”

From the way Junhui fights the urge to smile, Mingyu is sure he already knows what the answer to that is going to be. He sighs, flapping his hand at the two of them before standing up. “You can stay. I’m fine, anyway.”

“Are you?” Wonwoo asks, his face serious. Mingyu looks down at him with a shrug, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. “I figured you’d just wear him down until he agreed to date you.”

Mingyu pauses at that, shrugging his shoulders with a soft sigh. He can’t exactly say that _he_ wasn’t hoping for that as well. But that option wasn’t exactly on the table to begin with, it seems.

“It’s fine,” he says, more in an effort to reassure himself than Wonwoo. It seems to work well enough because Wonwoo leans to grab his book from the floor, trying to find his page once again.

Mingyu gives them both a small wave before going to his room and kicking the door shut behind him. He drops his bag to the floor, falling face first onto the bed with a long sigh.

He has better things to do than press his face into a pillow and let Jihoon’s words play over and over in his head, but that’s still what he finds himself doing. Maybe he should’ve argued with Jihoon— he isn’t looking for Jihoon to give up anything, or to do more than they already are. He was happy with the arrangement, after all.

But under the surface, he can’t deny that he likes Jihoon, that he wants more than ‘casual’ can offer. This is as clear an indicator as any that Jihoon doesn’t— didn’t— have the same in mind. If anything, Jihoon probably realized Mingyu’s crush and decided it was more than he wanted to deal with.

Mingyu lifts his head out of the pillow, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. He knows there’s nothing to be gained from chasing this thought around and around his head. He pulls himself up, slumping over for a second before dragging himself over to the desk. It feels like he’s gained fifty pounds since talking to Jihoon.

Running his fingers back through his hair, Mingyu opens his computer, trying to focus on his assignment rather than thinking about Jihoon. From all his experience with being dumped, he knows it’s unlikely to work, but at the moment it seems to be his only real option.

**{* * *}**

“What are you giggling at?” Minghao asks, looking back at Mingyu, still piling his clothes into the washer in front of him. Mingyu looks up, blinking his eyes.

“What?” He asks, still in the middle of writing out a text. Minghao shoots him a glare, probably annoyed he’s not listening.

“I asked what you’re giggling about,” Minghao repeats, slamming the door to the washer shut. He pushes himself up to sit on top of the machine, facing Mingyu now. Mingyu tries not to make a guilty face, tucking his phone away in his pocket too quickly to seem innocent.

“Just a text,” he says, putting a quick smile on his face. Minghao frowns at that, narrowing his eyes.

“A text from who?” He says, leaning back on his palms. “Seokmin?”

“Ah— no,” Mingyu says, resisting the urge to pull his phone out as it vibrates in his pocket. “Um, it’s Siwan.”

He cringes as Minghao looks around for something to throw at him. He counts himself lucky when he can’t find anything, lifting his head up cautiously.

“You’re kidding me,” Minghao snaps, pushing a hand back through his hair. “You’re sitting over there texting Park Siwan?”

“Didn’t you say you didn’t remember his name?” Mingyu asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Of course I know his name. I also know he’s a huge ass,” Minghao says, the glare still on his face. “Why are you even talking to him?”

“He sent me a message the other day,” Mingyu says, looking down at his phone again. 

“So you stop seeing Jihoon and he texts you out of the blue?” Minghao says, his voice sharp.

“No,” Mingyu says, sighing. “We talk sometimes. It’s not about Jihoon.”

“Again, why?” Minghao says, jumping off the machine to stalk over, grabbing the phone from Mingyu’s hand. “Did he say he’s sorry for being a huge dick and leaving you with no place to live? Or dumping you in a text after 8 months?”

It’s an old hurt, but Minghao still manages to make Mingyu flinch just a little.

“We’re friends— we talk,” Mingyu says, reaching to take his phone back. Minghao swats his hand away, both eyebrows raised. 

“You talk about meeting up with him this weekend?” Minghao says, huffing and staring down at Mingyu. “Are you kidding?”

He tosses the phone back at Mingyu, shaking his head. “Are you setting up a date?”

“No! It’s not a date,” he says, frowning at his phone. “I was supposed to help Jihoon with his piano thing but he canceled on me.”

“So you’re gonna hook up with Siwan?” He says, though his voice has most of its bite.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Mingyu says, standing as the machine washing his clothes finishes. “Do you suddenly need to approve all the people I hang out with?”

“I need you to think about what the fuck you’re doing,” he says, following after as Mingyu carries his clothes to the dryer. “Is this gonna be another casual sex thing?”

“What? No! It’s just a normal friend thing,” Mingyu says, nearly dropping all his clothes on the floor. “I’m not gonna sleep with him.”

“Good,” Minghao says, shaking his head. “He pissed me off.”

“Don’t all the people I date piss you off?” Mingyu asks, returning to his seat with a smile.

“Yes, because you have low standards,” Minghao says, tilting his chin up. “And if you date Siwan again I won’t be nice to him this time.”

“You were nice last time?” Mingyu asks, his smile getting wider. Minghao isn’t usually very free with his affections and so it’s always a little nice to be reminded that he cares so much about things like this.

“You’re sure it’s a good idea?” Minghao asks, sighing when Mingyu nods. “Fine.”

“I have your permission?” Mingyu says, leaning back in the chair with a laugh. Minghao rolls his eyes, hopping up onto the machine once again.

“You’d do it no matter what I said,” Minghao grumbles, kicking his heels against the door of the washer. “So it’s really not about Jihoon? You two just hang out all the time?”

“I mean,” Mingyu says, hesitating. “We don’t _hang out_ but—”

“So it is because you’re not seeing Jihoon,” Minghao says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Siwan didn’t know anything about Jihoon,” Mingyu says, shaking his head.

“I didn’t say he did,” Minghao says, snorting. “You wanna hang out with him because of Jihoon.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” Mingyu says, slumping over and sticking his phone back in his pocket. “It wasn’t like there was anything really going on with the two of us, anyway.”

“Don’t give me that again,” Minghao snaps, shaking his head. “You two were together, whether you wanna admit it or not.”

“Doesn’t really matter now, does it?” Mingyu asks his voice coming out more morose than he really means it to. Minghao sighs, and the pitying look he gives Mingyu makes him want to crawl under a table and hide. “Really— it’s fine.”

“Whatever you say,” Minghao says, though he rolls his eyes as he says it. “At least I have another chance to punch Siwan in the face.”

Despite himself, Mingyu has to muffle a laugh at that, shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, please don't hate me. I'd say I have a plan but I don't so I'm gonna say I'm _working_ on the plan.
> 
> Yeah.


	7. nothing gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, is that Siwan?” He asks, looking back at Jihoon.
> 
> “Who?” He asks, finding it hard to pull his eyes away from the two of them.
> 
> “Park Siwan— he’s Mingyu’s ex,” Soonyoung says, shrugging.
> 
> “I thought he had a bunch of those,” Jihoon says, his voice sounding more bitter than he means it to. Soonyoung notices it too, raising both of his eyebrows.

“Can you play me that bridge again?” Seungkwan asks, leaning his chin on his hand, seated in the corner of the small practice room. Jihoon looks at him from behind the music stand, shaking his head, frowning.

“Again? That’s the third time in a row,” he snaps, harsher than he needs to. Seungkwan lifts both of his eyebrows, brushing the wisps of his bangs away from his forehead.

“Well, that’s the part that doesn’t sound right to me,” Seungkwan says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m trying to figure out why.”

Jihoon glares across the room, biting the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t cure. He asked Seungkwan with the composition of his piece earlier in the week, after he told Mingyu he was too busy to spend time on it over the weekend. The truth of the matter is he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to see Mingyu or not. Jihoon doesn’t have any actual breakup experience to go by— least of all of whatever relationship he had with Mingyu.

So, it seemed easier to just cancel and work with Seungkwan instead— not that Seungkwan is currently making things any easier. “You changed the mood of the piece in the second half but I don’t think the transition matches.”

“The fucking bridge is fine,” Jihoon says, gripping the pencil in his hand too tight.

“Did you ask for me to help you just to yell at me?” Seungkwan says, his arms crossed over his chest. “You said you wanted to fix it.”

“I know,” Jihoon says, putting his pencil down with a sigh.

“Well that’s what I think you should fix,” he says, looking around the practice space with a frown.

“Well help with a different part!” Jihoon says, glaring at Seungkwan before taking the battered sheet of music and balling it up in his hands. He throws it in the direction of the trash, already half filled with other balls of paper and emptied cups of instant coffee. “I need to make some progress with this.”

“Jihoon-hyung it’s Saturday,” he says, shaking his head. “Are you camping out in here?”

“No,” Jihoon say, running his fingers back through his hair. He looks over at Seungkwan with a sigh, biting back the urge to apologize. “I went home to sleep.”

“And then came back here?” He asks. 

“I have a lot to get done,” he says, drumming his fingers against the stand. “I don’t work this weekend, anyway.”

“You know some people use that time to see their friends,” Seungkwan says, and Jihoon shoots him a look.

“Leave it alone,” he says, voice low and sharp.

“I’m just saying you could use the social time,” Seungkwan says, holding his hands out in front of him. “I have no input on who you should be spending it with.”

“I don’t think there’s any topic you have no input on,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“If you say so, Jihoon-hyung,” Seungkwan says, his mouth tipping up into a smile. “Play the bridge again.”

Jihoon shoots him a look but flips to the proper page anyway, starting from the proper place. This time, Seungkwan hums along with the melody of it, but shakes his head at the end.

“You changed the major motif,” Seungkwan says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you didn’t use either of them in the bridge so it sounds like it doesn’t match.”

Jihoon scowls but this time he nods his head, the eraser of the pencil tapping against his mouth gently. At least that’s better than the demand that he simply play it over and over with no proper input.

“Which one would you use?” He asks, tilting his head, tracing his finger over the line of messily drawn notes.

“I’d use the melody from the second part,” Seungkwan says, leaning back in his chair. “You can introduce it more gradually that way.”

Jihoon nods, tapping his pencil against the page. He can feel Seungkwan watching him still and he glances up, raising one eyebrow. “Just say it.”

“Are you going to yell at me if I do?” Seungkwan asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Jihoon shrugs at that, and while usually he would smile, even Seungkwan huffing at him isn’t quite enough.

“Probably,” he says, looking back at his music. “But if you’re just gonna stare at me you might as well say it.”

“Jeonghan said you broke up with Mingyu,” Seungkwan says. Jihoon sighs at the question, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Which is interesting, because I didn’t know you two were even dating.”

“We weren’t dating,” Jihoon says, lightly tapping a different melody out on the keys. “And I didn’t tell Jeonghan anything about it.”

“Well that doesn’t matter,” Seungkwan says, his smile growing a little wider. “How do you dump someone you’re not dating?”

“Do you have a point?” Jihoon asks, erasing several notes from the page and playing the melody out once again, the music soft.

“You just seem on edge,” Seungkwan says. “And this isn’t due for months, but you dragged me in here on a Saturday for it.”

“I have to show it to my adviser,” Jihoon says, leaning in to rewrite the notes on the page.

“In like, a month,” Seungkwan says, shaking his head. “You could at least take today off!”

“Don’t want to,” Jihoon says, lifting his head. “You can go if you want.”

Seungkwan stares back at him for a moment before flopping back into his chair with a sigh. “I said I’d come help.”

“Good. Are you done asking me about this?” He asks, scowling at the page again.

“If you’re not gonna tell me anything good,” Seungkwan says, and against his better judgment, Jihoon smiles a little. “Are you gonna play the bridge again?”

“Shut up,” Jihoon grumbles, starting to play the same part over again. He can’t deny that it does sound better this way— more connected. He probably wouldn’t have noticed the change himself if not for Seungkwan’s help. When he finishes, Seungkwan looks pleased, though if it’s with Jihoon’s piece or himself, Jihoon couldn’t say.

“How’s the album going?” Seungkwan asks, watching Jihoon fill in the rest of his edits to the music. Jihoon glances up, shrugging a little.

“Better than this is,” Jihoon says, tapping his eraser against the music. “I had a head start on that, though.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing two thesis projects,” Seungkwan says, pushing himself out of his chair.

“Well, I am a double major,” Jihoon says, shaking his head. “They sort of expect me to.”

Seungkwan nods his head, his back turned as he gathers his things. Jihoon returns to tapping out the next series of notes, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. When Seungkwan taps his shoulder, he jumps a little.

“Thanks for the help,” he says, something close to a smile on his face. Seungkwan huffs, shaking his head.

“I was promised lunch for my expert opinion,” he says, hands on his hips. Jihoon’s pretty sure he didn’t promise anything of the sort, but from the look on Seungkwan’s face, it doesn’t seem like he’ll win that fight too easily.

Still, Jihoon shakes his head, turning back to the keyboard. “Rain check. I’ve got a lot to get done.”

Seungkwan makes a face before he nods, clearly reluctant to let Jihoon keep working. “I’m telling Soonyoung that you haven’t eaten.”

Jihoon sighs at the threat; Soonyoung has been impossible to get off his back already. Seungkwan telling him that Jihoon has been skipping meals probably won’t get him to lighten up anytime soon.

But then, when it comes to Soonyoung, nothing else gets him to lighten up either. So, Jihoon waves one hand at Seungkwan, shaking his head. “I’ll get something to eat later— thanks for your help.”

“Sure, hyung,” Seungkwan says, smiling and giving Jihoon’s hair a quick ruffles as he leaves. Jihoon smiles, just to himself, shaking the hair out of his face before returning to his piece.

**{* * *}**

“I really don’t need you to feed me,” Jihoon says, yawning into his sleeve. He has most of his weight leaned into Soonyoung’s side, his eyes only half open. There’s no denying that he’s hungry— and tired— but he doesn’t need Soonyoung feeling like he needs to be babied.

Soonyoung looks at him with a grin and a playful roll of his eyes, lifting his arm to drape it over Jihoon’s shoulders. “Seungkwannie says you didn’t eat.”

His voice is lightly scolding, and he rubs the back of Jihoon’s neck. “Besides, it won’t kill you to spend time with me.”

Jihoon grumbles something that’s meant to be an agreement, detaching himself to sit once they’ve both ordered their food. The place Soonyoung has dragged him to is quiet and intimate— the kind Jihoon assumes is probably used more for dates than anything else. He sighs, stretching his arms over the table, laying his chin on them. “Fine.”

“Don’t sound happy about it,” Soonyoung says, but he’s still smiling. Jihoon grins at him in return.

“How is Seungkwan doing with his crush?” He asks, glad that the question makes Soonyoung grin.

“I think Hansol figured him out, he just doesn’t wanna say,” he says, chuckling to himself. “Not that I blame him for it.”

“He does, or at least I think he does, but if he says anything he’ll probably just embarrass Seungkwannie,” Soonyoung says, leaning back against the booth.

“Ah, so he doesn’t wanna die,” Jihoon says, lifting his head with a grin. Soonyoung nods in agreement.

Soonyoung has his mouth open to say something else, but Jihoon is caught by a too-familiar laugh from a few tables away. He looks, frowning to himself when his eyes land on Mingyu. From the booth he’s in, Jihoon has a clear view of both Mingyu and the unfamiliar person sitting with him.

He’s probably the same age as Mingyu, with dark skin and a handsome face, smiling at whatever Mingyu is saying. He could maybe be a relative— a cousin perhaps, but for the flush on the back of Mingyu’s neck, and the way the boy reaches out to squeeze Mingyu’s hand when he laughs again.

There’s a sharp, angry pull in the middle of Jihoon’s stomach for a reason he can’t name. Realizing that Jihoon isn’t listening, Soonyoung cranes his neck to see what he’s glaring at.

“Oh, is that Siwan?” He asks, looking back at Jihoon.

“Who?” He asks, finding it hard to pull his eyes away from the two of them.

“Park Siwan— he’s Mingyu’s ex,” Soonyoung says, shrugging.

“I thought he had a bunch of those,” Jihoon says, his voice sounding more bitter than he means it to. Soonyoung notices it too, raising both of his eyebrows.

“It’s not a bunch— but Siwan is the big one. They were together for like, all of last year. They were planning on moving in together,” Soonyoung says, leaning back as the waiter brings the food over to their table. Jihoon bites down hard on the inside of his cheek, glaring once again at the side of Siwan’s face.

“Are you gonna stare at him or eat?” Soonyoung asks, tapping Jihoon’s forehead. Jihoon crosses his eyes to stare at Soonyoung’s finger before picking up his chopsticks and breaking them apart with his teeth.

“I wasn’t staring. I just never heard of him,” he says, stuffing a clump of rice into his mouth.

“Well did you ask?” Soonyoung says, his cheeks puffed out as he eats. “Anyway, I’m not surprised Mingyu didn’t really wanna bring it up.”

“Why's that?” Jihoon asks, stealing a glance at Mingyu’s face. He’s still smiling, leaning in while Siwan talks, nearly knocking his soda over. He can’t name what it is about the sight that bothers him so much.

“He broke up with Mingyu like, right before the year started— according to Wonwoo it was pretty bad,” Soonyoung says, stuffing another bite in his mouth.

“And now they’re on a date,” Jihoon grumbles, shaking his head. He picks at his food, keeping his eyes on the table.

“Apparently,” Soonyoung says, sighing.

“Charming,” Jihoon says, stealing another glance at their table. It seems like his luck has finally run out, because Mingyu catches him. He catches Jihoon’s eyes for just a second before Jihoon looks away, his face burning. He doesn’t feel embarrassed for being caught, instead his whole body is tensed, hands curled into fists on top of the table. There’s a hot, metallic taste in his mouth, and even though he can feel Mingyu staring at him, he doesn’t look back.

Soonyoung, however, waves at him. “Mingyu-ya!”

Jihoon can hear the scrape of a chair as Mingyu stands, walking over to the two of them. Jihoon doesn’t look up until Mingyu stops at the end of their table. The smile on his face is awkward, forced, and Jihoon doesn’t make any attempt to return it.

“Hi, hyung,” he says, directing his attention toward Soonyoung more than Jihoon.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen Siwan,” he says, leaning toward Mingyu as he talks. “Minghao said you guys didn’t talk after— y’know.”

“Well, we do talk sometimes,” Mingyu says, shuffling his weight nervously.

“Stop being nosy,” Jihoon snaps, stopping Soonyoung in the middle of another question. “You’re interrupting their date.”

He spits the word _’date’_ out like he’s being forced to say something distasteful, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Mingyu’s shoulders flinch inward.

“I’m not on a date,” Mingyu says, his voice softer than before. Soonyoung glances between them before smiling again.

“We’re still on for the next movie, right? Because I doubt Siwan has seen the first one,” he says, and in spite of his easy smile, the message behind his words is hardly subtle.

“Ah— I don’t think Minghao and Seokmin would let him in the door,” Mingyu says, chuckling a little. “They aren’t very happy about this.”

“It’s just because they care about you,” Soonyoung says, at the same time Jihoon grumbles out “Wonder why.”

Mingyu hesitates, his smile almost falling off his face. Jihoon doesn’t miss the glare that Soonyoung sends in his direction, but he does try to ignore it. He’s aware that he isn’t exactly being kind to Mingyu, but he’s in no mood to be. Mingyu clears his throat, saying an awkward goodbye that’s mostly directed to Soonyoung.

When he takes his seat again, Siwan looks over at the two of them and Jihoon glares right back at him until he looks away.

“You’re not being fair,” Soonyoung says, shrugging when Jihoon frowns at him.

“You don’t like it either,” he says, returning to his food. “I just won’t pretend I do.”

“I’m allowed to not like it,” Soonyoung says, lifting his chin defiantly. “I didn’t blow my chance with him.”

“Shut up,” Jihoon snaps, shaking his head. “I’m not getting into it.”

Soonyoung rolls his eyes, but for once he doesn’t push the topic. Jihoon is glad for it, and he does his best to avoid staring at Mingyu and Siwan anymore. He would rather he just didn’t care about the two of them, but the sight leaves a bad state in his mouth. Worse than that, Soonyoung is right in saying it’s not fair of Jihoon to react like this. 

It’s not as if he didn’t split with Mingyu for exactly these reasons; he doesn’t have it in him to be the kind of person that Mingyu is really looking for. Even so, telling himself that it’s for the best does nothing to ease the anger lodged in the center of his chest.

It isn’t very long before Mingyu and Siwan get up to leave, and Jihoon thinks he might catch sight of Siwan’s hand on Mingyu’s back, just for a second before they walk away. He sighs, at himself more than anything, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers, taking one slow breath in and out to try and calm himself.

He can feel Soonyoung staring at him and he shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Soonyoung says, but there’s a touch of smugness to his tone that Jihoon can’t ignore. 

“Then keep not saying anything,” Jihoon says, drumming his fingers on the table.

Soonyoung blinks at him, quiet for less than a minute. “It bothers you.”

“Didn’t I just say not to start?” Jihoon says, shaking his head.

“I’m just wondering why,” Soonyoung says in a tone that makes Jihoon think he’s not wondering in the least.

“I didn’t say it bothered me,” Jihoon says, though he knows that Soonyoung isn’t fooled. He pushes himself out of the booth, shaking his head. “I’m done with this conversation. It’s stupid.”

“Jihoon-ah,” Soonyoung says, shaking his head and standing as well, throwing his arm over Jihoon’s shoulders. “I’m just trying to get you to talk to me, y’know? You keep too much to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Jihoon says, sighing out heavily. He leans a little into Soonyoung’s side, shaking his head. “Everyone else is making too big a deal out of all of this.”

“Whatever you say,” Soonyoung says, half a smile on his face, walking outside with Jihoon still tucked under one arm.

**{* * *}**

Jihoon is considering smacking his head against the drum machine in front of him until something workable comes out when Jeonghan shoves the studio door open with his shoulder, a vibrant smile on his face. And, any other time Jeonghan would be a welcome sight— or at least he’d be welcome while Jihoon is having this much trouble thinking. But that look means nothing good, as far as Jihoon has been concerned.

He looks over his shoulder with a sigh, shaking his head and turning back to the large, bright screen of the computer. “No.”

“You don’t even know why I’m here,” Jeonghan says, the pout evident on his face. Jihoon shrugs, refusing to look back even as Jeonghan lays against his back, arms wrapping around his waist.

“I know that I don’t want you to be here,” he says, which is only partially true. Jihoon wants to be working, or at least to feel like he isn’t utterly wasting his time in trying. Jeonghan won’t help with that, Jihoon knows too well.

“Well too bad,” Jeonghan says, nuzzling his face against the back of Jihoon’s shoulder. “Because I’m here to save you from yourself.”

“I don’t need to be saved from anything,” Jihoon says, his voice mechanical, attention slipping back to the program in front of him. Jeonghan sighs, realizing he’s being at least mostly ignored, standing up straight again.

“You’ve been doing nothing but this and your piano thing for like a week,” he says, arms crossed over his chest. Jihoon can sense the change in his tone, the dip from sweet and easy-going to serious.

This is the reason Jihoon assumed, at first, that he and Jeonghan would never make it as friends— it’s alway seemed like they both have personalities too strong to allow for really getting along. He turns his chair around, rubbing his palms over his face and shaking his head. “I’ve done other stuff. I went to lunch with Soonyoung. I went to work.”

“And all you did at work was your assignments! I had to pick up after you,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head. “You need to take a _break.”_

“I don’t want a break,” Jihoon says, slumping down in his seat. This is probably the most honest he’s been about it— a break means he has to stop and think about something other than beats, or melodies, or composition. At the moment, drowning himself in his work is the most attractive option available to him.

There’s a worried furrow in the center of Jeonghan’s forehead, and Jihoon shakes his head as soon as he sees it there. “I don’t want to get into it. Please.”

“Fine,” Jeonghan says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ve got nothing to say about anything.”

His lips lift into a small smile, brushing his bangs back behind his ear. “As long as you take a break and come get coffee with me.”

Jihoon thinks that over for a moment, squinting up at Jeonghan. He doesn’t entirely trust that Jeonghan will make it all the way through coffee without bringing up Mingyu, but he’s loathe to turn down the caffeine boost, since it’s essentially the only thing that’s been keeping him going.

“We’ll get you fancy coffee,” Jeonghan says, grabbing Jihoon’s arms and pulling him out of his seat. “With three shots of espresso and that vanilla syrup that Seungkwannie likes, and tons of whipped cream on top.”

Jihoon wrinkles his nose at the prospect of something that sweet, but he leans over to grab his wallet out of his bag, leaving the rest of his things where they are. He’ll just be back here after, anyway, and no one else is likely to come bother his bag. “No whipped cream.”

Jeonghan laughs at that, tucking Jihoon under one of his arms, nodding his head. “Whatever you want.”

It isn’t until they get to the coffee shop that Jihoon realizes this is as much a thinly veiled effort to go see Seungcheol at work as it is anything else, but at least it’s Chan working alongside him instead of Mingyu.

The way Seungcheol’s face lights up as soon as Jeonghan walks through the door makes Jihoon want to go throw up on the corner, and he’s sure that it shows on his face because Jeonghan looks at him with a roll of his eyes. “Play nice.”

“You’re both gross,” Jihoon grumbles, leaning into Jeonghan’s side, shaking his head. “Can’t you go back to being pathetic and flirting all the time?”

“No,” Jeonghan says, huffing the word out even though he’s still smiling. “Don’t be mean in front of Chan.”

“He’s pathetic,” Jihoon repeats, looking over at Chan now. He can see Chan struggling not to smile, dusting his hands off on his apron. Jihoon leans on the counter, looking at the menu hanging above them, considering. “And don’t let him blackmail you into loving him either.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jeonghan says, resting his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder. “Jihoon-ah is just bitter and mean. You like being my baby, don’t you Channie?”

Seungcheol coughs in a poor attempt to cover his laughter, and Chan quickly shakes his head, looking up from his apron with a frown. “I’m not anyone’s baby!”

“You love me more than Seungcheol though, right?” Jeonghan says, palms flat on the counter, leaning over it like he might climb over just to put himself between them. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, looking up from wiping off the other end of the counter.

“Stop bothering him and order,” he says, though there’s no power behind it. Jihoon sighs at the both of them, pushing his hair out of his face. He should have known better than to let Jeonghan drag him here. It’s been frustrating spending time with him and Soonyoung lately— if they aren’t bothering Jihoon about his own failed love life, they’re flirting or babbling on about their own relationships. He’s more annoyed by the two of them than he means to be, and he knows it shows; he’s never been much for keeping his emotions hidden.

“Hyung!” Chan whines, and Jihoon isn’t sure which of the three of them that’s directed at. “It’s not fair to make me choose.”

Jihoon half expects Seungcheol to jump in and save Chan from Jeonghan, but he has his elbow leaned on the counter, glancing between the two of them, waiting for an answer just as much as Jeonghan is. Jihoon thinks that maybe the two of them never should have been allowed to be together, but he keeps that one to himself. No use in proving Jeonghan right about him being bitter.

“Can I order?” He asks, and Chan looks relieved up until Seungcheol shakes his head.

“Wait,” he says, and Chan’s shoulders slump in defeat.

“Then I pick Seungcheol-hyung,” Chan says, his chin tilted up just a little in defiance. Jeonghan gasps in mock offense, grabbing hold of the back of Jihoon’s sweater and making like he plans to drag Jihoon away from the counter.

“That’s it! We’re finding a new place for coffee,” he says, sulking dramatically. Jihoon grunts as he’s pulled away from the welcome support of the counter, shaking his head. Usually these kinds of antics are reserved for Seokmin or Seungkwan, and Jihoon isn’t in the mood to play along with Jeonghan’s flirting.

Seungcheol steps forward, his chest puffed out, draping his arm over Chan’s shoulders like a proud parent. “Good!”

Jihoon elbows his way free of Jeonghan’s grasp with more force than required, rolling his eyes. “I’m just here for coffee.”

“What would you like, Jihoon-hyung?” Chan says, setting him apart as the only decent person Jihoon knows. He gives Chan a small smile, doing his best to ignore Jeonghan and Seungcheol flirting over the counter while he gives Chan his order.

The drink he orders is nowhere near as gross as the one Jeonghan suggested, but it is fancy enough to count as a treat, at least in Jihoon’s eyes. He turns, kicking the back of Jeonghan’s knee with a roll of his eyes. “I’m going back to the studio.”

“You aren’t gonna spend more time with me?” Jeonghan asks, a playful sulk on his face. “You never have time for me anymore.”

The playfulness drops out of his tone at the end, and Jihoon frowns. He’s always been good at worming his way under Jihoon’s skin and now is no different.

“I’ve been busy,” he says, though busy has really been his goal lately, he still feels a little guilty for it.

Jeonghan’s playful smile returns, reaching out to rub the back of his neck. “I should go with you.”

“Why?” Jihoon asks, narrowing his eyes. Jeonghan just smiles back at him.

“Because Seungkwan said he caught you asleep in the studio the other day,” he says, and Jihoon sighs in defeat. He should have known that asking Seungkwan to keep the secret wouldn’t pan out, after all.

“If you come you can’t be distracting,” he says, complaining even as he waits for Jeonghan to steal a shy kiss from Seungcheol. He glances quickly away, annoyance twisting in the pit of his stomach.

The two of them walk outside together, and the weather only makes Jihoon’s mood worse. They’re having an unusual warm spell; meaning the snow has melted into slushy drifts and to top it off, it’s started raining. Jihoon scowls at the muddy ground shaking his head. “I hate winter.”

“Shua told me about the bet,” Jeonghan says, his tone light. Jihoon sighs, shaking his head as his sips at his coffee.

“He wasn’t supposed to,” Jihoon says, raising an eyebrow. “How’d you twist his arm?”

“I would never,” Jeonghan says, smirking. “But the present from Mingyu gave things away.”

“I told him not to bother,” Jihoon says, chuckling to himself.

“You helped him pick it, right?” Jeonghan asks, tilting his head. “Since you stole my other scarf.”

“I might have suggested it,” Jihoon says, licking his lips. “We went shopping over break, but I was just helping him out.”

“You went shopping together?” Jeonghan asks, laughing softly. “You _hate_ shopping.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Jihoon says. “So are we all in trouble?”

“Hmm,” Jeonghan hums, lips wrapped around the straw of his drink, rocking on his heels. “Nah, I liked the presents.”

Jihoon laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Good. It’d be too bad if you hated Mingyu already.”

He doesn’t really think about what he’s saying until he sees the smug lift of Jeonghan’s smile. Jihoon stops dead in his tracks, mouth open to snap something at Jeonghan for sneaking the topic in. He loses his chance because the boy walking toward him, eyes fixed on his phone, fails to step to the side.

He’s taller, and much more broad than Jihoon, enough that the impact easily knocks Jihoon to the ground. He lands on the soaked sidewalk and spills his stupid, expensive coffee all over himself. Usually, that alone would be enough to piss Jihoon off, but it only gets worse when he looks up and recognizes Park Siwan staring down at him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Jihoon snaps, his voice definitely louder than it needs to be. Siwan still has a surprised, stupid look on his face and he doesn’t so much as offer his hand to help Jihoon up. Jihoon stands on his own, kicking the now empty paper cup at his feet. He’s never made a habit of speaking to strangers; let alone standing in the cold to shout at them— but it feels like the last threat of his patience has snapped.

“Can you not see where the fuck you’re going?” He asks, taking a step forward like he’ll suddenly become intimidating. Siwan’s expression hardens, his jaw going tense and tight.

“Sorry?” He spits out like he’s not sure if he really is or not.

“Are you?” Jihoon says, his fists clenched at his sides. He has the irrational urge to grab Siwan’s phone from his hand and throw it as far as he can. Jeonghan’s hand wraps gently around his arm, but Jihoon doesn’t break his glare up at Siwan.

“You okay?” Jeonghan asks, his voice quiet. Jihoon snorts, shaking Jeonghan’s hand off him.

“I’m fine. He’s just an asshole,” Jihoon says, his voice a snarl. He feels frayed, like he’s lost everything except his ability to continue being angry. It’s almost karmic, in a way that Jihoon absolutely hates, that he’d run into Siwan like this and end up covered in mud and coffee. Jeonghan takes his arm again, an Jihoon doesn’t shake him off this time. Siwan rolls his eyes, stepping around the two of them, mumbling something Jihoon is glad he doesn’t catch.

“C’mon,” Jeonghan says, pulling Jihoon along gently. “You can shower and change at my place.”

“I need to work,” Jihoon says, his voice sharp. He follows Jeonghan anyway, shaking his head.

“Who was that?” Jeonghan asks once they’re back in his apartment. Jihoon sighs, peeling his coat off and stepping out of his shoes.

“Mingyu’s boyfriend,” he says, pushing his way past Jeonghan. Jeonghan blinks, spluttering as he scrambles to follow after Jihoon.

“Wait wait wait! Boyfriend?” He asks, grabbing Jihoon’s arm. “Since when does he have one of those?”

“I dunno… few days. Maybe two weeks?” Jihoon says, not meeting Jeonghan’s eyes. “He said they weren’t dating but it’s pretty obvious.”

“So, right after?” Jeonghan says, raising his eyebrows.

“I guess,” Jihoon says, pushing his fingers back through his hair. “He wanted something serious, that’s a good place to look, isn’t it?”

“Jihoon,” Jeonghan says, his tone going a touch sad. “Don’t you think you should—”

“Don’t lecture me,” Jihoon says, brushing Jeonghan’s hand away. “Especially you, of all people.”

“I’m not trying to,” Jeonghan says, sighing after. “Point taken. I’m not really an example of talking out your feelings.”

“I’m gonna shower,” Jihoon says, shaking his head. “You have some of my clothes still, right?”

“Or stuff that’d fit,” Jeonghan says, nodding. “I’ll grab something for you.”

“Thanks,” Jihoon says, ducking into the bathroom and kicking the door shut behind him. He piles his clothes up in one corner, turning the hot water all the way on before climbing under the spray.

The water burns as it falls over his shoulders, but Jihoon adjusts to the heat quickly, leaning his forehead against the cool wall of the shower. He shuts his eyes, willing the loud, angry pumping of blood in his veins to slow down.

He’s been hanging onto this feeling for too long, he knows, burying it in the back of his mind, covering it with as much work as he can take on.

And now that it’s out, it seems like he’ll never be able to put all of these feelings away again. It’s the reason he didn’t want to get this involved with Mingyu from the beginning; he didn’t want to find himself in the position of caring this much. It’s possible he’s just as pathetic as Jeonghan at this point— unable to deal with the confused mess he’s made of his own heart.

He climbs out of the shower with a sigh, wrapping on of Jeonghan’s clean towels around his waist. When he opens the bathroom door, Jeonghan has an armful of clothes that definitely never belonged to Jihoon. He takes them anyway, turning to change in the bathroom.

He winds up wearing a pair of too-long jeans and a bright pink sweater that he’d never pick out for himself. It hangs off one of his shoulders and he leans over to cuff the pants at his ankles so they don’t drag on the wet ground.

“You look so cute,” Jeonghan coos, reaching out like he wants to pinch Jihoon’s cheeks.

“Don’t start,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m going back to the studio.”

“Are you still gonna let me come?” Jeonghan says, and after a moment, Jihoon shrugs his shoulders.

“I guess. Don’t be annoying.”

**{* * *}**

Jihoon isn’t sure what he’s doing here. Usually, the only parties he can drag himself to are the ones Soonyoung throws at his place; and even then it feels like a chore being there. But the party he’s at has nothing to do with Soonyoung— in fact, the only person there he even knows is Junhui.

Junhui who is half a room away, talking to a knot of pretty dance majors with a wide smile on his face. He’s not even responsible for Jihoon being there— not really. Jihoon was the one who asked Junhui what his plans for the night were— and the one who decided to come along. He just can’t explain to himself exactly why. It’s as tightly packed and suffocating as any other party he’s ever been to— but not without any other friends to look out for or spend his time with, Jihoon feels uncomfortably exposed. He still has Jeonghan’s pink sweater on, drooping off one of his shoulders.

He glances over at Junhui again, frowning, wiping the condensation from his beer off on his thigh. Junhui catches his look, saying a quick goodbye to his friends before his making his way back to Jihoon. “You aren’t having fun here.”

“Not really,” Jihoon says, sighing. “I don’t get parties.”

“I know,” Junhui says, but unlike all the concerned looks Jihoon has been putting up with recently, Junhui just smiles at him. “You should dance with someone.”

“No,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going home with anyone.”

“I didn’t say that,” Junhui says, draping an arm over Jihoon’s shoulders. “But you should have fun. You can dance with me.”

Jihoon sighs, shaking his head and looking away. That turns out to be a mistake, because he winds up looking directly at Siwan walking out of the kitchen with a drink in either hand. Jihoon’s stomach, and he reaches out, grabbing the sleeve of Junhui’s sweater. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Junhui asks, looking down at Jihoon with his head tilted to the side. Jihoon doesn’t look up at him, focused instead on watching Siwan hand one of the drinks to Mingyu, leaning against the wall maybe a dozen feet away.

He looks away before either of them catch him, looking up at Junhui instead. “Fine. Dance with me.”

Junhui still looks surprised, but entertained as well. It’s not as if Jihoon minds dancing with him, anyway. Even if he makes Jihoon look awkward and uncoordinated in comparison; his hand is light on Jihoon’s side and Jihoon knows Junhui well enough to know that it’s not going to wander anywhere else.

It’s hard for Jihoon to keep his attention off of Mingyu and Siwan, standing close together near a corner of the room. Siwan is only a little shorter than Mingyu, which shouldn’t come as a surprise, Jihoon supposes. They have their heads leaned close together, and Mingyu’s mouth is open, laughing again.

Siwan reaches out, his hand resting on Mingyu’s hip, leaning up with his head tilted to the side. Jihoon looks away before he has to see the two of them kiss. But not quite before Junhui catches what he’s looking at, turning to see as well.

“Oh, is that Mingyu?” He asks, voice almost covered by the music. Jihoon shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek. “Who’s he fighting with?”

Jihoon looks up to find that they’re indeed arguing, Mingyu taking a step away and shaking his head. They’re too far away for Jihoon to have any idea what they’re saying, but he clicks his tongue anyway, stepping back from Junhui as the song ends. “His boyfriend, I guess.”

Junhui’s forehead wrinkles slightly and he looks back at Mingyu and Siwan again. Siwan is shaking his head, looking angry, turning and walking away from where Mingyu is standing.

“That doesn’t look good,” Junhui says with a low whistle.

“Yeah,” Jihoon says, frowning. “I need a drink.”

Junhui hums, giving his hair a little ruffle as Jihoon ducks around him, still smiling. Jihoon lowers his head as he makes his way into the kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed by Mingyu. It’s petty, and probably unfair, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in a situation like this one.

Pouring an overly generous amount of rum into a cup probably isn’t the best way to handle things, but Jihoon does it anyway, his throat burning as he drains the cup. He can hear the sound of people shuffling around behind him, and he steps away from the counter, setting the cup down with a huff.

“Oh, Jihoon-hyung,” Mingyu says, and Jihoon can barely keep from sighing as he looks up at Mingyu. It would be too much to hope for, of course, that he could simply walk away without having to face up to Mingyu. The corner’s of his mouth are turned downward, and there’s a distant, sad sort of look on his face that only makes Jihoon feel worse.

“Hey,” he says, leaning his arm on the counter. As much as he wants to escape, it bothers him— seeing Mingyu look so upset once again, even if he isn’t to blame for it this time. “Night not going well?”

“Not really,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his neck with a laugh, small and strained. “I came out cuz um, Siwan wanted to.”

“Right,” Jihoon says, pushing off the counter and shaking his head.

“I think he assumed it was a date,” Mingyu says, still hesitating as he speaks. Jihoon pauses as well, licking his lips and looking up at Mingyu. They’re standing closer than he means for, and he doesn’t realize it until he tilts his head back slightly to look Mingyu in the face.

“That makes sense if you’re dating him,” Jihoon says, though there’s no humor in it. Mingyu’s face flushes, looking away.

“I’m not,” he says, more softly than before. “I didn’t mean to make him think we were.”

“I bet,” Jihoon says.

“I’m not, um, I don’t…” Mingyu says, trailing off and shaking his head. “I’m not interested in seeing him again like that.”

Jihoon hesitates, nodding his head. He’s too drunk to know what to do with this conversation. It feels like there’s something heavy wedging itself between his ribs, interrupting the beating of his heart, wreaking havoc. He takes half a step forward, reaching out, his hand catching in the fabric of Mingyu’s shirt.

“You’re not?” He asks, the words feeling strange as they leave his mouth. Mingyu’s breath catches, and with his hand against Mingyu’s chest, Jihoon can feel the way it flutters around in his chest.

“N- no,” Mingyu says, stumbling on his words. “Um, hyung—” 

“Shut up,” Jihoon says, tightening his grip on Mingyu’s shirt, leaning up on his toes and pressing a kiss to the corner of Mingyu’s mouth. Mingyu’s lips part slightly, his hand resting tentatively on Jihoon’s hip.

Jihoon reaches out, taking hold of Mingyu’s other hand, nodding his head toward the door. “C’mon.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, dropping to his feet again and pulling Mingyu along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late, a little, and I'm not 100% happy with it, but we press onward anyway!!


	8. now or never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon looks up at him, his mouth slick and swollen from the kissing. He frowns, just a little, reaching up with both hands like he’s planning to pull Mingyu into another kiss. Mingyu leans into it, his lips parting without a thought. That’s the way his whole night seems to be going— totally thoughtless. Still, as tangled and confused as everything is, Mingyu wants more from Jihoon; more of his mouth, more of his skin. More is a troubling concept, but it’s one that Mingyu can’t seem to escape from.
> 
> Mingyu pulls back just slightly, just enough to pass words between their lips. “Hyung, let’s go.”
> 
> Jihoon nods, licking his own lips, letting Mingyu go in a way that feels almost reluctant, his fingers lingering on the nape of his neck.

Despite how much his friends always love to say so, Kim Mingyu is not truly an idiot. He gets good grades, makes his parents happy, he doesn’t get himself into trouble.

So, the fact that he’s once again mouthing at the space between Jihoon’s shoulder and his neck, both hands slipped under his sweater, shouldn’t really be held against him. They’re barely inside the door of his apartment, and Mingyu is glad that Wonwoo isn’t camped out on the couch with his laptop, though that means he’s definitely still at risk of the two of them getting caught.

It hasn’t escaped Mingyu’s knowledge that this is a bad idea. He’s not supposed to be doing this with Jihoon anymore— by Jihoon’s own choice. Mingyu might not be an idiot, but he’s apparently dumb enough to get pulled into Jihoon all over again.

He pulls his head back with a sigh, fingers still stroking the smooth skin of Jihoon’s sides. It feels like it’s beyond him at this point to sort out the tangled mess of his feelings. Everything is so jumbled up in his head and chest that he feels like he’s been caught in a snare. 

Jihoon looks up at him, his mouth slick and swollen from the kissing. He frowns, just a little, reaching up with both hands like he’s planning to pull Mingyu into another kiss. Mingyu leans into it, his lips parting without a thought. That’s the way his whole night seems to be going— totally thoughtless. Still, as tangled and confused as everything is, Mingyu wants more from Jihoon; more of his mouth, more of his skin. More is a troubling concept, but it’s one that Mingyu can’t seem to escape from.

Mingyu pulls back just slightly, just enough to pass words between their lips. “Hyung, let’s go.”

Jihoon nods, licking his own lips, letting Mingyu go in a way that feels almost reluctant, his fingers lingering on the nape of his neck. Mingyu smiles, taking hold of one of Jihoon’s hands. It’s silly, perhaps, leading Jihoon to his room after he’s already been there so many times, but Jihoon follows along without making a joke at Mingyu’s expense.

He pushes the door quietly shut behind the two of them, pulling Jihoon against him rather than going directly to the bed. He catches the brief flash of a smile on Jihoon’s face before kissing him again. His neck is starting to ache from the angle, and he knows Jihoon can’t be much better. One of his hands slips under the hem of Jihoon’s sweater, stroking the dip of his spine.

“You look cute in this,” Mingyu says, grinning down at him. Jihoon rolls his eyes, but there’s still a smile on his face.

“It’s Jeonghan’s,” Jihoon says, grabbing Mingyu’s shirt and pulling him back toward the bed.

“Are you gonna tell me to shut up?” Mingyu asks, grinning as Jihoon shoves him onto the bed, standing over him and rolling his eyes.

“Only if you run your mouth,” Jihoon says, climbing onto the bed, his knees on either side of Mingyu’s hips. Mingyu swallows, his hands sliding up Jihoon’s thighs, squeezing the soft fabric of his jeans. Jihoon leans forward, planting his palms on either side of Mingyu’s sides, their faces close together. “You could just be quiet.”

Mingyu grins, though his mouth feels dry and his stomach does a small flip. His hand slides up Jihoon’s back again, pushing up the loose sweater, fingers spread wide over his skin. 

“Okay,” he says, dumbstruck. Jihoon smirks, his back arching slightly into Mingyu’s touch.

“Good,” Jihoon says, kissing Mingyu quick and fleeting. Mingyu leans forward, doing his best to deepen the kiss, but Jihoon leans back, his mouth sliding down Mingyu’s jaw instead. Mingyu tilts his head back, lips parting as Jihoon bites the side of his neck. 

Despite having had almost nothing to drink, it’s strangely hard for Mingyu to get his mind working. If he’s drunk on anything it’s Jihoon— which is a stupid thought on its own. There are a dozen reasons he shouldn’t be in bed with Jihoon on top of him, why he shouldn’t have his hands up Jihoon’s shirt.

The main one, of course, is Jihoon himself said he didn’t want to do this anymore. Mingyu swallows, leaning his head back with a shaking breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “Um, hyung?”

“That didn’t last long,” Jihoon mumbles against Mingyu’s neck, shifting so he’s sitting on Mingyu’s thighs with one of his eyebrows raised. Mingyu looks up at him reluctantly, biting his lower lip.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Mingyu says, pulling his hands back when Jihoon frowns at him. He shakes his head, sitting up on his elbows.

“You don’t want to?” Jihoon asks. His eyes are hazy and dilated and his hand squeezes around the side of Mingyu’s shirt.

“I do,” Mingyu says, too quick and honest, swallowing hard like he can somehow stop the words rising up in the back of his throat. “You said you— you said no more.”

“I know,” Jihoon snaps, shaking his head. “It’s just tonight.”

Mingyu sighs at that, running his fingers through his hair. “I can’t do this.”

Something gives way in Jihoon’s expression, and rather than looking annoyed, he looks small for the first time Mingyu can remember. Mingyu licks his lips, looking away. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Jihoon says though he leans back, adjusting the bottom of his sweater to cover his stomach again.

“You won’t wanna be invested,” Mingyu says, shaking his head. He reaches toward Jihoon but hesitates, his hand hovering in the air between them. “I do.”

Jihoon looks up at that, but there’s no surprise on his face. “I don’t wanna talk about this.”

“I like you— not in a casual way,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I want there to really be something between us, not just this…”

“Stop!” Jihoon snaps, rolling off Mingyu and climbing off of the bed. “I’m going home.”

Mingyu sits up all the way, reaching out and gently taking Jihoon’s wrist. His grip isn’t strong enough to keep Jihoon from pulling away, but he stops anyway, his shoulders tense. Mingyu tugs softly, biting his lip as he waits for Jihoon to turn around. “Can we please just… talk?”

“I told you,” Jihoon says, turning slowly. He doesn’t pull his arm away from Mingyu’s grasp, but he stares at it rather than looking Mingyu in the face. “I don’t wanna talk about this.”

Mingyu flips Jihoon’s hand over, looking down at the fine web of lines on his palm, struggling to think of something to say. “Sorry— I just… I don’t get why.” 

His voice is rawer than he’d like, too much emotion stripped out of him. He looks up at Jihoon, shaking his head, mouth parted around another question that doesn’t quite want to come out of his mouth. Jihoon sighs, pulling his hand gently out of Mingyu’s grasp. “I don’t have time for all this.”

Mingyu drops his hand back to the bed, shoulders slumping inward. He should know better, probably, than to think laying his feelings bare like this would have any effect on the situation.

It never has in the past, after all.

“Okay,” he says, soft and defeated. He looks up at Jihoon, holding in the urge to sigh, chewing the inside of his cheek.

Jihoon seems like he doesn’t know what to say, but Mingyu isn’t sure if the reluctance on his face is really there or just something he’d like to see. One of Jihoon’s hands clenches into a tight fist for a moment before releasing it again, shaking his head as he turns to go. On a whim, Mingyu stands as well, following Jihoon out of his room.

It feels like he should say something else like there should be something to fix the mess the two of them have made. But, nothing comes to mind, and Jihoon lets himself out of the apartment without a word or a wave.

Mingyu drops to the couch, pressing his face into his hands with a long groan. He can hear the quiet sound of Wonwoo’s bare feet against the floor, but he doesn’t lift his head.

Wonwoo heaves a heavy sigh from next to him and Mingyu pushes his fingers back through his hair, looking up. “Hey.”

“Are you done fighting in the middle of the night?” Wonwoo asks, his voice still scratchy with sleep.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says, sulking more than he means to. Wonwoo rolls his eyes, taking a seat next to Mingyu.

“I thought you two called things off,” he says, his eyes only half-open. He’s not wearing his glasses, so Mingyu assumes he’s just a large blob in the center of Wonwoo’s vision.

“We did,” Mingyu says, leaning his head on the back of the couch with a sigh. “I went to a party with Siwan. I didn’t expect to see Jihoon there.”

“And so you left with him?” Wonwoo asks, raising both of his eyebrows. Mingyu shrugs at that, covering his face again, talking into his palms.

“Yes. I got in a fight with Siwan and then I saw Jihoon and we just…” He stops, gesturing his hand vaguely rather than explaining the rest. Wonwoo nods, but he hardly looks impressed with Mingyu’s handling of the evening.

“Are you planning on doing anything else stupid if I go back to bed?” He asks after a moment, punching Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu yelps, leaning away and clutching at the spout with a pout.

“I didn’t plan on doing any of it already!” Mingyu says, huffing the words out. Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“I know. That’s your problem,” he says, sighing as he pushes himself to his feet. “You wouldn’t keep ending up in these situations if you’d think, idiot.”

“Good night to you too, hyung,” Mingyu says, rolling his eyes. Wonwoo looks back at him with a small smile and Mingyu picks himself up off of the couch, dragging himself off to bed to sleep alone.

**{* * *}**

“How long are we supposed to wait for your boyfriend?” Minghao asks, adjusting the pillow behind him and turning his head to look up at Seokmin.

Seokmin looks up from his phone with a shrug. “He said he was coming.”

“That wasn’t the question,” Minghao says, pointing at the screen. “Are we gonna start the movie?”

“Not until Soonyoung gets here,” Seokmin says, for at least the fourth time. He puts his phone down on the bed, wiggling to the edge of it to stare down at Minghao and Mingyu, spread out on the floor as always. “Is Siwan coming?”

“No,” Minghao says before Mingyu even gets a chance to answer. He pauses, shooting Mingyu a small glare. “He’s not, right?”

“He’s not,” Mingyu says, shaking his head. “Unless Seokmin invited him.”

“I only talk to him in class,” Seokmin says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not asking him on dates for you.”

“He’s pissed at me anyway,” Mingyu says. He regrets it instantly, because the two of them both perk up, looking at him and expecting an explanation. Mingyu sighs, sinking down further, tucking his chin close to his chest. “We went to a party the other night.”

“Yeah, Jun said you were arguing,” Minghao says, and Mingyu blinks, frowning.

“How does he know that?”

“Saw you there, I guess,” Minghao says, shrugging. “Or he’s stalking you.”

“Siwan thought we were on a date, and I, um, didn’t,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his neck. It would be best to leave the story off there, but Seokmin and Minghao are still staring at him. “And uh, Jihoon came home with me.”

“What,” Minghao says, his voice too flat to count as a question. Seokmin frowns.

“You guys aren’t—”

“I know,” Mingyu says, cutting him off with a share of his head. “He didn’t stay.”

“Have you talked to him?” Seokmin asks, raising both of his eyebrows. Mingyu sighs, nodding his head.

“I tried. He didn’t want any part of it,” Mingyu says, frowning down at his knees. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Shouldn't have said what?” Seokmin asks, leaning forward until it looks like he's in danger of falling off of the bed. Mingyu sighs, looking between the two of them and shaking his head. 

“Can't we just watch the movie?” He says, leaning back and whining. Minghao shakes his head, smirking. 

“We have to wait for Soonyoung,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “What shouldn't you have said?”

“Just… I told him that I like him,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his head and avoiding looking at either of them. Neither of them responds and after a moment Mingyu sighs before continuing. “He already knew anyway, I'm sure."

"It's still best to say something," Seokmin says, though there's a frown on his face like the answer wasn't what he was expecting to hear. "Did you ask him out?"

"Kinda," Mingyu says, laughing once sharply. "He didn't wanna hear it."

"Sorry," Minghao says, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder as the door swings open. The three of them turn to look up at Soonyoung, standing in the doorway with a bright smile on his face. He waves, swinging it shut behind him.

"Hey! I know I'm late. I had to go drag Jihoon out of the studio," he says, shaking his head and shrugging his coat off. "I think he's been there since last night. He was passed out again and everything."

"Shut up," Minghao says. Seokmin rolls his eyes, throwing a pillow at Soonyoung.

Soonyoung yelps, lifting his hands to protect himself only after the pillow bounces off the side of his head and lands on the floor. "I'm not that late!"

"You're stupid," Minghao says, rolling his eyes. In spite of himself, Mingyu smiles. Soonyoung pauses, and it seems like he actually notices Mingyu for the first time because he stops, frowning to himself.

"Oh! Sorry," he says, taking his spot on the bed and flinging himself on top of Seokmin. "I didn't think about it."

"It's fine," Mingyu says, nodding at the screen. "We should start the movie."

"Something happened," Soonyoung says, looking between Seokmin and Mingyu. "That's why Jihoon is avoiding all human contact."

"I thought you just saw him," Mingyu says, though as soon as he does he wishes he hadn't. Soonyoung nods, laughing a little.

"I did, and I nearly didn't escape,” Soonyoung says, shaking his head. “He’s just. Tense. I wasn’t sure why.”

Minghao snorts, leaning forward and hitting the play button, shaking his head. “There’s a surprise.”

Soonyoung sighs, wrapping his arms around Seokmin’s sides. “No one’s gonna tell me what happened, are they?”

“Probably not,” Seokmin says, turning his head and kissing Soonyoung’s cheek. “I’ll fill you in later.”

Soonyoung hums, and it’s followed a moment later by Seokmin laughing. Mingyu frowns, sinking down lower, his shoulders pressing the edge of the bed. Usually, it’s Minghao that’s bothered by the two of them flirting, but at the moment he seems to have it tuned out in favor of watching the movie. But, tonight, Mingyu can’t seem to _stop_ hearing all the shuffling and muffled laughter, even after the story picks up and grabs Soonyoung’s attention.

He glances over at Minghao, who doesn’t seem to be paying attention to either of them. Mingyu wrinkles his nose, doing his best to focus on the screen. It lasts for a few minutes until there’s the rustling sound that usually accompanies the two of them either wrestling into a better position for cuddling, or, more likely, just the two of them making out.

Mingyu scowls, digging his phone out of his pocket and clicking through his messages. There are no new ones, but on a whim, Mingyu pulls open the messages from Siwan, chewing the inside of his lip.

It’s a stroke of luck that Minghao is interested in the movie as well because he doesn’t notice Mingyu texting anymore than he does Seokmin and Soonyoung.

<< _I’m sorry things were weird last night_

He rests his phone on his thigh, looking back at the screen without really following anything that’s happening on it. He can hear Soonyoung whispering a question to Seokmin, one that makes him laugh again, and Mingyu’s sinks a little further into the floor.

>> _it’s no big deal. I guess I just had the wrong idea._

Mingyu looks at the message for a long moment, frowning at it. Before, talking to Siwan was a way to keep from feeling so lonely. But now things between him and Jihoon seem more settled than they were before. He wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t interested in seeing Siwan romantically again, especially while his heart is still so set on Jihoon.

<< _can we just get coffee and talk?_

He’s not sure why he sends the message, only that if he has to hear any more of Seokmin and Soonyoung kissing, he might actually dissolve through the floor. His fingers drum impatiently on his thigh, waiting for an answer and trying to pay attention at least a little to the movie.

>> _okay. I’ll meet you in a few?_

Mingyu sends back a quick thumbs up before standing. All three of them turn to look at him, and for a second Mingyu freezes like a deer in headlights. He clears his throat, laying a hand on his stomach. “I just, uh, need some air.”

Minghao’s brow furrows and Mingyu slips his shoes on before he can offer to come along.

**{* * *}**

He only realizes once he’s all the way outside that he’s forgotten his coat entirely, but since spring is starting to creep up, it’s not as cold as usual. He tucks his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched inward against the bite of the cold wind.

The walk from Seokmin’s room isn’t far from the cafe, and Mingyu is glad this isn’t one of the nights that Seungcheol is working. When he ducks through the front door, he’s met only with Chan waving at him, a bright smile on his face.

“Mingyu-hyung! You don’t usually come in on your night off,” he says, leaning half over the counter. Mingyu laughs, rubbing the back of his neck softly, nodding.

“I’m just supposed to meet a friend,” Mingyu says, smiling. Chan nods his head, looking around the empty coffee shop with his head tilted. Mingyu does the same, laughing.

“You’re not usually by yourself this late. No one’s working with you?” He asks, watching Chan start the espresso machine without asking for what Mingyu even wants.

“I can handle it,” Chan says, looking up as the door opens again. Mingyu’s stomach flips, though he can’t name to himself why he’s suddenly so nervous about seeing Siwan. Chan looks at him again, dropping his voice low. “Is that your friend?”

Mingyu turns, smiling a little as he waves to Siwan, nodding at Chan. “Yeah, it is.” 

Chan looks up with a smile, pausing in fixing Mingyu’s drink and brushing his hands off on his apron. Despite his nerves, Mingyu nods at Chan, his smile small. “I'll pay for whatever he gets.”

“Just an iced americano,” Siwan says, stepping up to the counter and standing close to Mingyu. “Shouldn't you be wearing a jacket?”

“I forgot it,” Mingyu says, shrugging a little. “It's not too cold anyway.”

“If you say so,” Siwan says, rolling his eyes. Mingyu reaches out to grab his coffee from Chan, licking his lips nervously. 

“You said you wanted to talk?” Siwan asks, leaning on the counter close to Mingyu. Mingyu nods his head, passing a few bills over the counter to Chan, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, taking a seat as far away from the counter as he can manage. Chan isn't the biggest gossip among his friends but Mingyu still isn't fond of the idea of being overheard. 

Siwan takes the seat across from his, leaning his arms on the table. He raises both eyebrows, clearly waiting for Mingyu to come up with something to say. He struggles with it for a moment, looking down at his hands wrapped around the plastic cup of coffee.

“I’m… I feel bad about last night,” Mingyu says, his fingers tightening around the cup.

“That’s all?” Siwan says, a hint of a smile still on his face. Mingyu shrugs his shoulders, not sure if he should nod or not. “Well, if that’s it then can I talk?”

“Ah, sure,” Mingyu says, clearing his throat and taking a small sip of his drink.

“I get that you didn’t mean for last night to be anything,” he says, holding his hands up when Mingyu opens his mouth. “That’s fine! I didn’t mean to get so mad about it. But I thought it wouldn’t be such a _bad_ thing, would it?”

“Um, I don’t know,” Mingyu says, releasing his coffee and drumming his fingers on the top of the table. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Siwan says, blinking. “I mean, I know we didn’t leave things off on the very best of terms before…”

“No, it’s, um…” Mingyu hesitates, shaking his head. “I was seeing somebody. Sort of.”

“Was?” Siwan asks, his eyebrow raised. There’s a smile on his face and Mingyu shakes his head again.

“It’s complicated, I guess. But I’m not really, um,” Mingyu sighs, ducking his head and pushing both hands back through his hair with a long groan.

“You’re not done,” Siwan says, a smile on his face. Mingyu nods, dropping his hands and sighing.

“Not really. Sorry,” he says, smiling a little. Siwan shrugs his shoulders, pushing his chair back and standing to go.

“It’s alright. Hope you find a way to work things out,” Siwan says, waving as he leaves. Mingyu sighs, hiding his face behind his arms and squeezing his eyes shut. The chair across from him scrapes on the floor again, and Mingyu expects to see Siwan sitting there when he looks up.

Instead, it’s Chan.

“Mingyu-hyung? Is everything okay?” He asks, leaning in. His voice is low, in spite of how dead empty the cafe is, and it makes Mingyu smile. 

“Yeah, everything's fine, Chan,” Mingyu says, doing his best to be reassuring. Chan nods his head, but he doesn't look convinced. 

“Are you sure? You've been upset lately, and I know Seungcheol-hyung is worried about whatever it is,” Chan says, his eyes wide and earnest. Mingyu blinks, surprised that he's been so obvious. 

“Sorry. I'm really okay,” he says, sitting up. “Except Minghao is gonna kill me for ditching him.”

“You know, I'm not a baby,” Chan says crossing his arms. “I can tell when stuff is going on.”

“I wanted to date someone but they're not interested in me,” Mingyu says, frowning at himself. “It just… Took me a long time to figure that out.”

“The guy who was here?” Chan asks, turning to look over his shoulder. Mingyu smiles, shaking his head. 

“Someone else,” Mingyu says, sighing as his phone vibrates in his pocket. “I'm just sad about it. I'll be okay.”

Chan nods his head, smiling and reaching out to pat Mingyu’s hand. “Good! You're more fun when you're happy.”

Mingyu laughs, standing and pulling his phone out rolling his eyes at the increasingly threatening messages from Minghao. “I should get back before he hunts me down.”

Chan looks up, nodding his head, a serious look on his face. “You should. Minghao-hyung is scary.”  
Mingyu smiles, putting his phone back in his pocket as he walks out. He doesn't feel better, exactly, but he does feel like he has a better grasp of things, at least.

**{* * *}**

“Stop thinking about it,” Wonwoo says, his nose still buried in his book. When Mingyu doesn't answer, Wonwoo looks up with a sigh, reaching to fix his glasses.

“What?” Mingyu says belatedly, still staring mindlessly at the screen of his laptop. 

“You're thinking about Jihoon,” Wonwoo says kicking at Mingyu’s thigh. “Stop it.”

“Ow! I wasn't,” Mingyu says, lying through his teeth. Try as he might, getting over Jihoon doesn't seem like something that's going to happen anytime soon. 

“Yes you were,” Wonwoo says, his mouth fixed in a flat line. “Aren't you supposed to be doing work?”

“I am,” Mingyu says, pulling his hand off of his phone. “I just got a little distracted.”

“Thinking about Jihoon,” Wonwoo says, and Mingyu sighs, leaning his head back. 

“Yeah, a little,” he says, looking down at his phone with a frown. “I kinda thought since the whole… Relationship thing was settled we could go back to being friends.”

“And?” Wonwoo says, sounding like the answer couldn't be less interesting to him. Mingyu shakes his head. 

“And nothing. I haven't heard anything from him,” Mingyu says, checking his messages for the hundredth time in the last hour. 

“Probably because he hates you for not fucking him,” Wonwoo says, rolling his eyes. As much as Mingyu would like to take Wonwoo’s usual sarcasm in stride, he's struck exactly what's been eating at Mingyu already. 

“Do you think so?” He says, and Wonwoo glares back at him. 

“No. I don't,” he says, snapping the book in his lap shut, apparently resigned to having this conversation. “I think he doesn't know how to deal with things, so he's just holed up until he figures it out.”

“I think he's mad at me,” Mingyu says. “Because I wouldn't take the hint. 

“That's because you're stupid,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. “And because Jihoon is stupid, and you're both being stupid together.”

Mingyu scowls at that, opening his mouth to say something else. He's cut off by Wonwoo shaking his head. 

“No. No more of this whining,” he says, swinging his legs off the couch. “Jihoon likes you plenty, you're both just being obnoxious about it.”

“I tried telling him,” Mingyu says, shrinking back against the couch. Wonwoo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

“And Jihoon said he didn't have time. Not that he hates you or was just using you for sex,” Wonwoo says, glaring down at Mingyu. “He's scared of fucking the relationship up. It's not that hard to figure out, Mingyu-ya.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Mingyu says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I tried talking to him. I just wanna make things okay.”

“Just— give it some space,” Wonwoo says, gathering his book up and shrugging. “You did your best to talk to him. Let him figure the rest out.”

“I hate waiting,” Mingyu says, kicking his feet across the recently vacated space of the couch. Wonwoo’s lips lift up into a smile, shaking his head.

“Then you should have listened to me before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is _officially_ in sight and idk about y'all, but I'm pretty damn glad.


	9. someday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It's not your turn,” Minghao says, the hint of a smirk on his face. Jihoon takes his seat, leaning forward but being careful not to touch Mingyu. “So I don't care what you want.”
> 
> “I'm just saying,” Mingyu says, the pout on his face exaggerated. Jihoon wasn't sure what he was expecting out of seeing Mingyu, but he's exactly the same as Jihoon remembers him being. It feels wrong, somehow, like there should be more evidence of whatever was going on between them. The thought makes Jihoon scowl. 
> 
> There's no one to blame but himself, after all. Mingyu gives up on prodding Minghao after another moment, leaning back and really looking at Jihoon for the first time. He smiles, but it's a little forced, and all the evidence Jihoon was looking for is there in his eyes. “Hi, hyung.”
> 
> “Hi,” Jihoon says, his voice sticking in his throat.

"What?" Jihoon says after the tenth glance Seungcheol casts in his direction in as many minutes. Seungcheol blinks, shifting his gaze to look like he wasn't staring in the first place. Jihoon sighs, leaning back from his books, raising both eyebrows. "Just talk."

"I didn't say anything," Seungcheol says, shaking his head.

"You want to," Jihoon says, pushing his hair away from his face. "So talk."

"You've been avoiding the coffee shop," Seungcheol says, shaking his head. The two of them are occupying the space in the middle of Seungcheol's floor, between the beds pushed against either wall. "It's been like two weeks since I've really seen you."

"I thought we were done talking about Mingyu," Jihoon says, looking down at his notes again. Seungcheol makes a surprised sound, holding his hands up.

"I didn't say anything about Mingyu!" he says, then bites down on his lip. "So you're still avoiding him?"

"No," Jihoon says, and it's not entirely a lie. Mingyu stopped trying to talk to him a few days after the party fiasco. For something Jihoon thought he wanted, the lack of contact has made him shockingly miserable. He'd assumed that by breaking things off properly and focusing on anything else instead, his feelings would simply fade away on their own. That hasn't happened, at least not yet.

If anything, Jihoon spends more of his time thinking about Mingyu than he did before. He frowns, glancing at Seungcheol before looking back at his notes. "How is he?"

"Mingyu? Seungcheol asks, tilting his head to one side like the question is some big surprise to him. Jihoon hesitates before nodding his head, keeping his eyes on his notebook. "Quieter than usual, Chan keeps trying to cheer him up."

Jihoon's hand squeezes tighter around his pen, struggling to keep himself from reacting any further. It doesn't seem to work, because Seungcheol reaches out to gently pull his notes away, sighing.

"He's like he got dumped," Seungcheol says, shaking his head. "Which is weird because that's how you're acting too."

"What?" Jihoon asks, forced to look up and actually confront the conversation he's having. He'd rather talk about these things with Seungcheol, at least, rather than Jeonghan or Soonyoung, or really anyone else he knows.

Mingyu has become something of a forbidden topic, after the last time Soonyoung mounted an effort to get Jihoon to talk about his feelings and Jihoon snapped and refused to talk to him for a week. Seungcheol shrugs, but the look on his face is serious.

"You've done nothing but work on your projects. You don't come get coffee, you don't hang out with me and Jeonghan, you won't go out," Seungcheol says, listing each item off on his fingers. "Not that you _have_ to do all of it, but you're cutting everyone out."

"I'm fine," Jihoon says, reaching out in an effort to take his notebook back. Seungcheol huffs, holding it well out of reach.

"You're not fine! And neither is Mingyu," Seungcheol says, tossing Jihoon's notes onto the bed behind him, shaking his head. "Did you actually want to stop seeing him?"

"No," Jihoon says, the world falling reluctantly out of his mouth. He stuffs his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, slouching over, clenching them into fists. "I didn't."

"Then why did you?" Seungcheol asks, stretching his long legs out across the floor. Jihoon squirms in his spot, shaking his head with a sigh.

"It just... it made more sense," Jihoon says, scowling as he searches for the words to explain. He's refused to discuss things with Mingyu up to this point, and really, he's not sure of what he even wanted with any of this. "I don't know how to do relationships and he's obviously looking for one."

"What'd you mean?" Seungcheol asks, his brow furrowing. Jihoon sighs, tilting his head back between his shoulders.

"As soon as we stopped hooking up he was seeing his ex again," Jihoon says, shrugging. "He said they weren't dating or whatever, but neither were we."

"He wants to be dating you," Seungcheol says as if it should be so obvious to Jihoon. "Besides, Chan said Mingyu got rid of Siwan again anyway."

"It's scary how you find out everything," Jihoon says, mumbling the words under his breath. He's not quiet enough to keep Seungcheol from hearing him it seems because Seungcheol beams at him. It's not as if Jihoon is any different, really, since he's here confiding his problems in Seungcheol like everyone else does.

"It's not about _a_ relationship," Seungcheol says. "It's about you."

"Well I'm not the right person for it, obviously," Jihoon says, a bitter smile on his face.

"You sound like Jeonghan," Seungcheol says, a grin on his face. Jihoon blinks back at him, pulling one fist out of his pocket.

"Do you think I won't hit you?" He asks, both eyebrows raised. Seungcheol laughs, holding his hands up.

"You do! He had like two dozen reasons that we shouldn't date," Seungcheol says, grabbing Jihoon's wrist and putting his fist down for him. "He worked himself all up about it."

"Really?" Jihoon scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "After I had to third wheel on all your dates for _three years_..."

"Those were dates?" Seungcheol asks, his lips parting in confusion. Jihoon stares back at him for a moment before shaking his head with a long sigh.

"I need better friends," he says, swiping his hair back with both hands. 

"Even the ones with Mingyu?" Seungcheol asks, shaking his head. "What were those, double dates?"

"No," Jihoon says, then pauses. He pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers, shutting his eyes. "Actually, knowing Jeonghan? They probably were."

"See? You're already doing better than you thought," Seungcheol says, sounding far too smug about it. Jihoon huffs a small laugh, shaking his head. He looks up, surprised by the gentle smile on Seungcheol's face. "What are you worried about?"

"I'll get distracted by making out with him and fail out of school," Jihoon says, his voice bleak. "Or I'll fuck up even worse than this."

"Okay, the first one I don't think you need to worry about," Seungcheol says, laughing. "But you know if you avoid dating him just cuz you might mess up, you really are gonna be single forever."

"Ugh," Jihoon says, leaning back against the other bed and shaking his head. "Don't you start too."

"I'm not saying date Mingyu," Seungcheol says, shrugging. "You two need to work that out on your own."

"But?" Jihoon asks, biting the inside of his cheek.

"But you should consider giving it a shot," Seungcheol says, handing Jihoon's notebook back to him. "If it's what you want, you should talk to him."

"I'll think about it," Jihoon says as if it's not the only thing he's thought about for the last two weeks. Part of him wants to ask if Seungcheol really thinks he has any chance at all with Mingyu, but he's not sure he wants to know the answer to that. He pulls the notebook back into his lap, shaking his head.

"I can't believe you didn't realize those were dates," he says, chuckling to himself. "How in the world did you two ever get your shit together?"

**{* * *}**

Jihoon has always been someone who has to arrive at answers on his own time. So, even after Seungcheol's not so subtle encouragement, he's still not sure where he stands when it comes to Mingyu. No matter how he looks at things, it seems like a risk, like a leap of faith, and Jihoon has never been one for taking those kinds of jumps.

It seems like every choice is the wrong one, so, Jihoon continues to make no choice at all. Some part of him, deep in the pit of his stomach, hopes that Mingyu will do something to make his mind up for him, but that doesn’t happen either. So, Jihoon rearranges the songs for his project for the thirtieth time and tries to keep ignoring the situation in front of him.

Soonyoung, as always, finds a way to make that hard.

“This is new, isn’t it?” He asks, tossing his arms around Jihoon’s shoulders and leaning into his space. He wasn’t invited, but he’s managed to wander in every time Jihoon is in the studio for the past few days. Jihoon suspects that Seokmin is guilty of feeding him Jihoon’s schedule. He turns his head toward Soonyoung with a hum that really isn’t much of an answer.

“I was gonna have Seokmin sing it,” he says, inclining his head toward the screen. “This is just the guide.”

“It sounds good with your voice,” Soonyoung says, laying his chin on Jihoon’s shoulder. He hums along with a bit of the melody, the top his head resting against Jihoon’s cheek as he listens. “It’s kinda got a mood to it… it’s not quite sad, is it?”

“I guess not,” Jihoon says, tapping part of the rhythm on the top of the desk. Soonyoung lifts his head after the chorus, chuckling softly.

“Simple, huh?” Soonyoung asks, raising both his eyebrows. “I guess want it casual doesn’t sound as nice?”

“Don’t start,” he says, though there’s less heat in it than he means for. Mostly, his voice sounds sad to his own ears, and Soonyoung’s arm tightens around his shoulder, pulling Jihoon closer to him.

“Are we still pretending you’re over it?” Soonyoung asks, and Jihoon sighs, hanging his head against his chest.

“I don’t know,” Jihoon says, sighing the words out. “Don’t you have to go?”

“Why do I have to go?” Soonyoung says, still holding onto Jihoon.

“Movie night,” Jihoon says, sitting up and shaking his head. “I’m almost done in here, anyway.”

“Are you going home?” Soonyoung says, sitting up though he doesn’t let go. Jihoon shakes his head, sighing.

“I was gonna go work downstairs,” he says, pushing his bangs back from his face with a sigh. Soonyoung nods, giving Jihoon’s shoulders a little shake.

“Are you gonna get mad if I ask you to come?” He asks. Jihoon frowns at the screen, thinking the offer over. There’s a fairly certain chance that Mingyu will be there, but rather than being annoyed with Soonyoung, Jihoon’s stomach does a small, nervous flip.

“No,” Jihoon says, though he’s not sure if he’s talking to Soonyoung or himself.

“Well that’s progress,” Soonyoung says, chuckling. “But really, Mingyu got the hint— he’s not gonna bug you.”

Somehow, that only makes Jihoon feel worse. He sighs, sitting up and forcing Soonyoung to slide off of him. Soonyoung makes a displeased sound, rubbing the back of his head. “And if he does you can fight us all.”

“Alright, fine. What are you watching?” Jihoon asks, closing out of his work. Soonyoung brightens up, his smile bigger than usual.

“Don’t know! It’s Minghao’s week, so we’ll see,” he says, watching Jihoon grab his coat. “Seokmin is insisting on no scary movies.”

“Which means he’s gonna pick one,” Jihoon says, chuckling as he watches Soonyoung shrug his coat on as well. Soonyoung smiles, nodding his head.

“Probably,” Soonyoung says, tucking Jihoon under his arm once again.

Jihoon doesn't really start to regret his choice until the two of them are standing in front of the door to Seokmin’s room. Jihoon can hear the three of them laughing inside and he clenches one hand into a fist, trying not to lose his nerve. 

Soonyoung gives his shoulder a small squeeze before pushing the door open and stepping in ahead of Jihoon, smiling. “I brought a surprise!”

He declares it so brightly that the yelp he lets out when Jihoon kicks the back of his leg sounds that much louder. Jihoon smirks, waves at Seokmin, pretends he doesn't notice the way Mingyu stares for a second before forcing himself to look away. Minghao scowls, his attention more on Mingyu, and Jihoon supposes he can't be offended by that either. 

“Great!” Seokmin says, hopping off the bed to kiss Soonyoung on the cheek before all hell has a chance to break loose. Minghao turns back to selecting a movie from netflix with a little scoff and Jihoon shrugs his coat off with a roll of his eyes. 

Mingyu doesn't say anything, but he shifts over to make more space on the floor for Jihoon to sit. His chin leans on Minghao’s shoulder. “I don't wanna watch one of those romance movies.”

“It's not your turn,” Minghao says, the hint of a smirk on his face. Jihoon takes his seat, leaning forward but being careful not to touch Mingyu. “So I don't care what you want.”

“I'm just saying,” Mingyu says, the pout on his face exaggerated. Jihoon wasn't sure what he was expecting out of seeing Mingyu, but he's exactly the same as Jihoon remembers him being. It feels wrong, somehow, like there should be more evidence of whatever was going on between them. The thought makes Jihoon scowl. 

There's no one to blame but himself, after all. Mingyu gives up on prodding Minghao after another moment, leaning back and really looking at Jihoon for the first time. He smiles, but it's a little forced, and all the evidence Jihoon was looking for is there in his eyes. “Hi, hyung.”

“Hi,” Jihoon says, his voice sticking in his throat. The strained corners of Mingyu’s smile ease a little bit like he wasn’t expecting a response at all. Jihoon shifts in his spot, tapping his fingers nervously on one of his legs. He doesn’t usually feel compelled to talk just to fill up space, but he finds the silence surprisingly suffocating. 

Unfortunately, he also doesn’t really have anything to say to fill it, so instead, he sits with his legs curled up near his chest, listening to Seokmin and Minghao debate over what movie to watch. Mingyu seems to be doing the same, smiling a little as he leans toward the two of them though he doesn’t add anything to their arguing.

He looks back at Jihoon after another few minutes of them not arriving at an answer, shaking his head. “How’s your piano thing going?”

Jihoon shrugs at the question, tilting his head to the side as he thinks. “Okay. Slow, I guess.”

“You’ve gotta be close to done by now, right?” Mingyu asks, leaning his head back against Seokmin’s bed. His voice is quiet like he doesn’t want the other three to overhear, though asking about Jihoon’s homework is hardly a very intimate conversation.

“That's the hope,” Jihoon says, laughing softly. “If I stop changing things.”

“I'd like to hear it,” Mingyu says, his smile shy. “Once you're done.”

Jihoon nods, plucking at a loose thread on his hoodie with a soft smile. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay. We're watching this one,” Minghao says, clicking a movie with a nod of his head. There's a small scowl on Seokmin’s face like his suggestion has been soundly ignored. Soonyoung smiles, pulling Seokmin back against his chest. 

“That doesn't sound too bad. It's a sci-fi one, right?” He says, more a reassurance than a question. Mingyu casts the screen a nervous glance as well, and Jihoon can't help but grin at that. 

“Are you gonna cry if there are ghosts?” He asks, laughing when Mingyu whines at the question. 

“Hyung! I didn't cry,” he says, smacking Jihoon’s shoulder with more force than needed. Jihoon shoots him a glare for it, but Mingyu just grins back. “Are you gonna hold my hand if I get scared?”

The back of Jihoon’s neck burns. “No.”

“I'm not doing it either,” Minghao says, his voice clear and sharp as he cuts in. Mingyu sulks at both of them, and Jihoon struggles with how cute the look on his face is. It's easy, almost too easy, spending time with Mingyu like this again. Even if the idea of pretending things between them never happened makes Jihoon feel strange and unsettled, it's nice to know he can still see Mingyu, at least. 

“Move,” Minghao says, as the voice over starts explaining how the world ended up a frozen wasteland. He elbows Mingyu in the side to make his point. “There's a glare on the screen.”

“So sit up,” Mingyu says, whining even as Minghao shoves him out of his spot. Jihoon sighs, says nothing as the two of them switch their places and Mingyu grumbles about not seeing a glare anywhere. It's not exactly the most subtle thing Jihoon has ever seen, especially when Minghao gives him a small withering look once he's settled into Mingyu’s usual spot. 

“Wait, they're all on a train?” Mingyu asks after a moment and Minghao shoves him again, shushing him this time. 

“Pay attention, I haven't seen this yet.”

Mingyu huffs, crossing his arms and leaning back against the bed again. The movie doesn't take long to pick up, and even Jihoon cringes when a man’s arm gets frozen and then broken off with a hammer. Mingyu makes an upset sound, cringing to the side like he wants to grab onto Minghao, and despite saying he wouldn’t hold Mingyu’s hand, he ends up doing exactly that. Even though Jihoon catches him rolling his eyes, Minghao still smiles a little. Mingyu glances over, catching Minghao’s smile as well and grinning brightly in return. Jihoon licks his lips, shifting in his seat and trying not to spend the whole movie staring at Mingyu.

It helps that this movie is at least interesting, if a little violent for Jihoon’s taste, so it’s easier to pay attention to that rather than Mingyu hiding against Minghao’s shoulder. Minghao sighs, trying to detach his arm from Mingyu. “You’re annoying.”

“You picked the scary movie!” Mingyu says, letting go of Minghao reluctantly. After a moment, he stands, ducking his head so he doesn’t totally block the screen, though it hardly helps. When Minghao shoots him a glare, Mingyu holds his hands up in front of him. “I just gotta pee.”

“If you run off to see Siwan again I swear—” Minghao says, raising his hand and scowling at him. Mingyu huffs, shaking his head as he lets himself out. Minghao casts a small glare at Jihoon like he expects Jihoon to get up and follow after him. His attention drifts back to the movie when Jihoon doesn’t move, and it’s quiet except Seokmin and Soonyoung groaning in despair when someone else gets shot.

Mingyu returns, and rather than stepping over the two of them again, he takes a seat on the other side of Jihoon, leaving him seated in the middle. He returns just in time for the train to go through a tunnel while all the heroes get chopped up. Mingyu flinches the whole time, his knees drawn up close to his chest to allow him to hide behind them, his weight leaning into Jihoon’s side.

Jihoon sighs as Mingyu reluctantly sits upright again at the end of the scene, glancing at him. “Are you gonna make it?”

He asks the question with a little smirk on his face and Mingyu shakes his head. He’s close enough that Mingyu’s little flinches are all obvious and he leans closer to Jihoon, apparently the momentary quiet of the movie still scaring him. One of his arms manages to get tangled with Jihoon’s, and Jihoon tenses more than he means to. Mingyu glances down, licking his lips and pulling his arm back quickly.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, and Jihoon shrugs one of his shoulders. He focuses for a moment on forcing himself to relax, only to be startled by a loud sound from the movie. He jumps, and Mingyu’s hand shoots to grab his shoulder. This time, Jihoon almost smiles and Mingyu is slower about pulling his hand back.

“They’re all gonna die,” Jihoon whispers, leaning closer to Mingyu to make himself heard. Mingyu shakes his head, but he smiles a little.

“I hope not. I like happy endings,” he says, glancing down at Jihoon then back at the movie. Jihoon chuckles, shrugging.

“Maybe that’ll be the happy ending.”

"Hyung," Mingyu says, laughing softly, tilting his head toward Jihoon's shoulder. "How would that be happy?"

"They're all annoying," Jihoon says, grinning. "The main guy let his best friend die."

"He had to," Mingyu says, shaking his head. He's still smiling, and Jihoon is more distracted by that than he wants to be. He's saved by Seokmin wailing in dismay once again at the movie, digging out one of his thousands of pillows to swat at Minghao with it.

"Why would you pick this movie!" He says, yelling over the characters talking on screen. "It's gross! And everyone is killing each other!"

"It's interesting," Minghao says, ducking to avoid the next swing, shaking his head. "I wanna see what happens."

"I wanna sleep sometime this month," Seokmin says, sitting up on his knees. Soonyoung is cowering somewhere behind him, and Minghao looks at them both with a sigh, reaching out to pause the movie.

“Fine,” he says, grumbling and Jihoon is kind enough not to point out how Mingyu also sighs in relief.

They end up instead watching a variety program hosting a group of female idols who Jihoon can’t remember the names of by the time they’re finished introducing themselves. They’re cute, though, and they have more energy than Jihoon has himself in the last month.

Which is why it’s that much more ironic when he drifts off to sleep leaning into Mingyu’s side, tuning out the sounds of the show and of Seokmin and Soonyoung laughing along with it. He doesn’t quite fall all the way asleep, but it’s enough that he slumps into Mingyu’s side bonelessly, lips parted slightly as he breathes.

He can hear the vague sound of Mingyu saying something above him, his voice more vibration than actual words, but he doesn’t move in response. There are more noises, other people talking probably, and Jihoon shifts a little, pressing his face against whatever warm part of Mingyu he’s leaning against.

Mingyu laughs, his fingers tracing over Jihoon’s hair softly, following his hairline. “Jihoon-hyung?”

“Hnn?” Jihoon hums, closing his eyes tighter. He’d rather fall further asleep than wake up all the way, especially leaning into Mingyu like this. Mingyu strokes the back of his head again, thumb resting against the nape of Jihoon’s neck.

“I thought you were done with all of this,” Minghao says, his voice low and sharp.

“Shut up,” Mingyu says, his voice quiet as well. Jihoon isn’t asleep anymore, but he doesn’t move either.

Above them, Soonyoung sighs. “Don’t fight.”

“Whatever,” Minghao says, though he sounds like he wants to do nothing more than argue with the both of them. Jihoon bites the inside of his cheek, the hand tucked between his hip and Mingyu’s curling into a fist. “I’m going home.”

Mingyu sighs and says something that Jihoon doesn’t quite catch. He can feel Minghao stepping over the both of them, and either Soonyoung or Seokmin stands to follow him out. The door shuts behind them, and for a minute everything is quiet except for the opening of some music broadcast playing on the TV.

“Great, he’s pissed at me,” Mingyu says after, sighing to himself. His hand lingers at the back of Jihoon’s head for a moment before falling to the side.

“You know he never stays mad,” Seokmin says, meaning it’s Soonyoung walking with Minghao. “He just…”

“He thinks I’m stupid,” Mingyu says, and Seokmin makes a sound that doesn’t sound entirely like a disagreement.

“When it comes to relationships, kinda,” Seokmin says, chuckling. “It’s just cuz he cares.”

“I’m not a kid,” Mingyu says, shifting under Jihoon a little. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” Seokmin says, soothing and warm. Jihoon wishes there was an easy escape from having to hear this part of the conversation. There’s a pause and Jihoon takes the chance to sit up, rubbing at his eyes.

Seokmin grins down at him, leaning over the edge of the bed. “Are we having a sleep over, Jihoon-hyung?”

“Not interested,” Jihoon says, rubbing at his eyes. “I should get back.”

“You’re going to bed, right?” Mingyu says, poking gently at Jihoon’s side. The smile on his face is wider than Jihoon expected it to be, and his stomach tightens.

“I’ve got stuff to do,” Jihoon says, shoving Mingyu’s hand away.

“Stuff you can do tomorrow,” Mingyu prods, sitting up now as well, looking up as Jihoon stands. “I’ll walk you back.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jihoon says, rubbing the last of the sleep out of his eyes and pulling his shoes on. “I can get back on my own.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, laughing. “But if I go with you then you can’t just go work.”

“He has a point,” Seokmin chips in, a smile on his face. Jihoon rolls his eyes but he gives up on the argument, waving for Mingyu to hurry up.

Mingyu pushes himself up, grinning at Seokmin before he puts his shoes on. “Hopefully Soonyoung-hyung doesn’t get lost.”

“I have faith in him,” Seokmin responds, laying his chin on his hands. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Night,” Jihoon says, hardly waiting on Mingyu to follow after him.

Mingyu does, though Jihoon isn’t sure he understands why. There’s an easy smile on his face, his hands tucked into the pockets of the leather jacket that might very well be the only one Mingyu owns. Jihoon looks down, scowling, trying to think of something to say.

“It was nice tonight— seeing you,” Mingyu says once they’re outside, not quite looking at Jihoon either. “I know you’ve been busy for awhile.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon says, the word reluctant to leave his mouth. His lips lift upward a little, though it’s not really a smile. “I’ve been kinda… focused.”

“You’ll be done before too long,” Mingyu says, nodding his head. “It won’t be so crazy after that.”

“I guess,” Jihoon says, looking down at his feet still. 

“Do you think…” Mingyu says, stopping abruptly. Jihoon stops a few feet later, turning to look back at him.

“Do I think what?”

“I…” Mingyu starts, then trails off, rubbing the back of his head and looking away. “I know I gotta give you space to figure out… whatever. But do you think that after your projects and stuff are done…”

“What are you asking me?” Jihoon says though he’s pretty sure he already knows. Mingyu looks down at him, biting the corner of his lip.

“I’m asking you to go out with me,” Mingyu says, shaking his head. “Which didn’t go so well last time.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Jihoon says because it’s easier than answering Mingyu’s actual question. Mingyu’s shoulders slump.

“It’s not going so well this time either,” he says, his forehead wrinkling as he looks at Jihoon. “You don’t have to tell me right now. I can wait.”

“Why do you want to?” Jihoon says, unable to keep the words from coming out of his mouth. “I haven’t exactly done anything right so far.”

“Because I like you,” Mingyu says, shrugging and taking a step forward. “And I think that's what matters.”

“Mingyu-ya,” Jihoon says, though he doesn't have a thought to follow the name. It feels like the space in his ears has suddenly gone empty except for the loud crashing of his own heart. Mingyu takes another step closer, reaching one of his hands out to cup Jihoon’s cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” Mingyu asks, biting his lip. “You can say no I just… I wanna do it once. For real.”

“For real?” Jihoon asks, tilting his head back without thinking. 

Mingyu nods, leaning over him. “Yeah. I want it to really mean something.”

Jihoon glares up at Mingyu if only to cover the way his face is burning. Apparently, it's not enough of a cover, because Mingyu’s thumb strokes over his cheek, a smile growing on his face. “Hyung?”

“Alright,” Jihoon says, nodding his head slowly. He can see the way Mingyu smiles before leaning down to close the space between them, covering Jihoon’s mouth with his own. The kiss is softer, sweeter than Jihoon is used to; from Mingyu or anyone else, really. He reaches forward, holding onto the edges of Mingyu’s jacket, leaning on his toes to kiss Mingyu back. He can feel how Mingyu's mouth curves up into a smile like he can't stop himself, and Jihoon hopes that nauseous, fluttering feeling in his stomach doesn't mean he's actually gonna throw up.

Mingyu pulls back, but only far enough for a breath to pass between them, leaning his forehead against Jihoon's.Jihoon's face feels like it's on fire despite the cool night air, but he's smiling as well. Mingyu drops his hand after a moment, hovering like he's reluctant to stop touching Jihoon, and Jihoon peels his hands away from Mingyu's jacket as well. He takes a step back, looking up at Mingyu once again, biting his lower lip.

"Are you sure?" He says because he can't think of anything else. For all his talk of wanting something uncomplicated, the choice Mingyu is trying to give him seems too easy. 

"Sure about what?" He asks, his hands curled into fists near his thighs like he's not sure what to do with them. "About liking you? Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"Okay," Jihoon says, licking his lips nervously. It's hardly anything in the way he says it, but Mingyu's face lights up like it's the best thing he's ever heard. It's cute, though, it makes Jihoon want to kiss him again.

"Okay?" Mingyu asks like somehow the answer is too much to hope for. Jihoon laughs, nodding his head.

"Yes, okay. We can... see how this goes," Jihoon says, looking away. Mingyu makes a sound that's less words and more a yelp of joy, lunging forward and wrapping his arms around Jihoon, pulling him into an abrupt hug. He lifts Jihoon off the ground, Jihoon's face squished against his chest, laughing into his hair.

Jihoon kicks his legs uselessly, speaking as well as he can with his cheek crushed into Mingyu's chest. "Kim Mingyu put me down."

"In a minute," Mingyu says, his breath warm against the top of Jihoon's head. Jihoon rolls his eyes and wiggles as much as he can until Mingyu relents and sets him on the ground once more. He takes a step back, giving Mingyu a wary glare.

"Pick me up again and I'll kill you," Jihoon says, though he's too flustered for the threat to have any weight behind it. Mingyu laughs, nodding his head easily.

"Alright," he says.

"Are you coming back with me?" Jihoon asks, raising his eyebrows. His face burns again when he realizes how suggestive his words sound. "I mean..."

"I'll walk you back,” Mingyu says, nodding. “But I’m not putting out until you take me on a date.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes, walking with Mingyu next to him again. “Seems like it’s a little late for that.”

“Well you wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re taking advantage of me,” Mingyu says, hesitating before reaching out and taking Jihoon’s hand. “Besides, you’re older so you have to take care of me, hyung.”

Usually, Jihoon would bite something out in return for that, but he’s too flustered by Mingyu’s warm hand wrapping around his to come up with something.

When they stop outside of his door, he’s smiling to himself. Mingyu looks like his cheeks must hurt from all the grinning he’s doing. Jihoon turns, looking up at him and using his free hand to push his bangs back.

“Don’t go sneaking out to the studio either,” Mingyu says, giving Jihoon’s hand a little squeeze.

“I won’t,” Jihoon says, chuckling softly and releasing Mingyu’s hand to unlock his door. He’s not entirely surprised when Mingyu hugs him softly from behind, pressing his forehead against the top of Jihoon’s head.

“Good,” he says. “You probably need to sleep.”

“That means you have to let go of me,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes. Mingyu does, and Jihoon turns to face him, leaning up to kiss him again. Mingyu smiles, stroking his fingers through Jihoon’s hair. His lips part, his tongue sliding out to touch Jihoon’s lower lip softly.

Jihoon’s mouth opens as well before he has a chance to think about it. One of his hands reaches out for Mingyu’s hip, one finger hooking through his belt loop. There’s the sound of a door closing at the other end of the hall and Jihoon pulls back, blinking his eyes.

“We’re not making out in my hall,” Jihoon says, shaking his head. Mingyu laughs, nodding and biting his lip.

“Night, Jihoon-hyung,” he says, pressing a quick, soft kiss to the center of Jihoon’s forehead. Jihoon untangles his fingers from Mingyu’s pants, shaking his head as he lets himself into his room.

“Yeah, night,” he says, smiling as he shuts the door behind himself.

**{* * *}**

The sound of the studio door opening behind him usually makes Jihoon jump, especially when he's not expecting anyone to come in and bother him this late at night, but for once he doesn't even turn as the door clicks shut once again.

He has his headphones on, one slightly off his ear, fingers tapping a beat over and over on the surface on the desk like if he hears it enough times he'll know exactly what is wrong with this song. 

"Hyung?" Mingyu says behind him, reaching out to squeeze Jihoon's shoulder gently. Jihoon turns half toward him, not quite taking his eyes off the screen.

"Hey," he says, wrinkling his nose as the chorus of the song starts again. He presses his headphones closer to his ear, eyes shutting as he listens more closely. Mingyu hovers awkwardly behind him before leaning against the desk. Jihoon glances up at him when he opens his eyes. "It's like midnight."

"I know," Mingyu says, a small frown on his face. He hits the spacebar to pause the song Jihoon is listening to, reaching to pull the headphones off of his head. "And you're not asleep."

"Neither are you," Jihoon says, then frowns, pulling his hat off and shaking his hair free. "You don't stay up this late."

"You said you were gonna be done at 10," Mingyu says, shaking his head. Jihoon blinks, his lips parting for a second.

"Well fuck," he says, leaning back in his seat with a groan. "I said we could watch that movie."

"Yes," Mingyu says, laying his palms on the desk. "At least I'm not crazy, then."

"Sorry," Jihoon says, grabbing his hat and pushing his bangs away from his face again before sticking it on. He presses his palms into his eyes, shaking his head. "I forgot. I wasn't even watching what time it is."

"It's fine," Mingyu says, shrugging and reaching out to turn Jihoon's hat so it's sitting crooked on his head. "I watched it with Wonwoo-hyung."

"Are you here to drag me out?" Jihoon says, raising his eyebrows. Mingyu shrugs.

"You can keep working if you need to," he says, shifting so he's seated properly on the desk, just to the side of Jihoon's screen. "I can hang out in here for awhile."

"You're gonna fall asleep," Jihoon says, shaking his head with a small smile. "And I'm not carrying you anywhere?"

"You won't?" Mingyu asks, pouting at Jihoon. Jihoon shakes his head, rolling his eyes at Mingyu's sulky expression. He wouldn't usually give in so easily to letting Mingyu sit there and be a distraction, but he feels bad enough for standing him up already-- kicking him out seems like it's just adding insult to injury.

Overall, Jihoon makes a pretty shitty boyfriend. He tries not to dwell on it too much. He sighs, looking back at the screen. "Fine. Stay."

Mingyu grins, leaning back on his hands to look down at Jihoon. "Or you could come stay with me."

"I'm busy," Jihoon says, even though he has no idea what he was actually working on. He scowls at the screen, every music related thought suddenly gone from his head. Mingyu rolls his eyes, pulling the headphones off of Jihoon's neck.

"You're tired," he says, standing up and pulling Jihoon's chair away from the desk. Jihoon makes a protesting sound, sitting forward and trying to grab the edge of it to hold himself there. He's not fast enough to reach, and Mingyu laughs behind him.

"C'mon," he says, shaking his head. "Wonwoo-hyung is in bed already, anyway. Just come sleep over."

"You're annoying," Jihoon says, leaning back in the chair to glare up at Mingyu. "Go away."

"I'll go if you come with me," Mingyu says, bending over the back of the chair to steal a quick kiss. "You owe me for the movie, anyway."

"Oh, I owe you?" Jihoon asks, raising his eyebrows. He gives in anyway, standing and tossing his bag over his shoulder. It's finally starting to get warm enough that he doesn't need to haul a jacket around everywhere he goes, but it's late enough that it'll probably be cold anyway. Jihoon resigns himself to that, pulling one of Mingyu's arms over his shoulder so he can leech away heat.

Mingyu looks surprised for a second before he smiles, even more brightly than before. It's only been a couple of days, really, since the two of them (mostly Jihoon) managed to actually work things out, and Jihoon is still unsure of how to really conduct himself in a relationship. Mingyu squeezes his shoulder, looking pleased to have Jihoon tucked under his arm as they walk outside together.

He hasn't found time yet for the real date that Mingyu wants them to go on yet, but when they get back to Mingyu's room, he looks down at Jihoon with his lip trapped between his lip in a familiar way. Jihoon raises one of his eyebrows, pushing the door shut behind him. "I thought you weren't putting out until we went on a date."

"I didn't say anything," Mingyu says, but the flush on his face gives him away. Jihoon nods his head, smirking a little as he turns away, pulling his shirt off over his head. 

"That's good. I'm tired, anyway."

"Don't be mean, hyung," Mingyu whines, wrapping his arms around Jihoon from behind. One of his hands lingers at Jihoon's hip, thumb dipping under the waist of his jeans. The other strokes up the side of his ribs.

"So you were trying to get me into bed," Jihoon says, laughing when Mingyu groans.

"You're bullying me."

"Only because you make it so easy," Jihoon says, shrugging his shoulders. Mingyu licks his lips, shaking his head a little. Jihoon rolls his eyes, turning around in Mingyu's arms and planting both hands firmly against his chest. Mingyu blinks, his lips parting before Jihoon shoves him back onto the bed, making a surprised sound when he hits the mattress.

A moment later, he smiles, sitting up on his elbows and reaching one hand out to grab Jihoon's wrist, pulling him closer. "Are you gonna tell me to be quiet, too?"

Jihoon climbs onto the bed as well, his knees on either side of Mingyu's hips, hands on his shoulders for balance. He kisses Mingyu, humming as he does.

"Nah," he says after a moment, his lips hovering just above Mingyu's. "Not this time."

**{* * *}**

"Hey," Mingyu says, still a naked pile of sweaty limbs, crash landed on the bed next to Jihoon.

Jihoon turns toward him, chuckling softly. "Hey."

Mingyu smiles, slow and soft, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he does. One of his hands curls around Jihoon's hip, pulling him close once again, ignoring the sticky layer of sweat clinging to Jihoon's skin. He opens his mouth, his eyes darting shyly to the side. "I'm um, I'm really happy. About this."

"Okay," Jihoon say softly, ducking his head. Hearing it makes him feel surprisingly shy himself. 

"Me too," he says after a moment, his forehead tucked to Mingyu's collarbone, pressing a small kiss to his chest. Mingyu presses his face into the top of Jihoon's head, his laughter muffled. He hugs Jihoon tighter to him, and after a moment Jihoon groans, trying to wiggle away.

"Okay okay, get off me. You're gross," he says, trying to push Mingyu away. Mingyu laughs, refusing to let go until Jihoon finally gives up and goes limp. "Can I go take a shower?"

"In a minute," Mingyu says, tilting Jihoon's chin up and smiling down at him. "Just... stay with me."

"Fine," Jihoon says.

He'd put up more of a fight, maybe, if it wasn't exactly where he wanted to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! First of all, of course, thank you so much for reading this fic! I needed something to spend my summer on, but hearing all your comments and having great people to share it with made it so much fun. I'm sorry this is a day late, my internet literally went out the second I finished writing last night and didn't come back until this morning.
> 
> Second, I'm not sure what the next thing I post on here will be, but if you wanna talk to me about gyuhoon (or whatever else, but pls talk to me about gyuhoon), I'm most active on twitter as @ravidogs


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